Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (14 page)

“I’ll, um… go wait over there,” Chris uttered, pointing to a group of
chairs lining the corridor with his thumb. I nodded gratefully – relieved
that I could speak with Sarah alone.

“You haven’t told him have you?” Sarah asked, nodding her head towards
Chris who had his back to us as he went to find a seat. “Why Dexter’s in here I
mean.”

“I, erm…” I stumbled over my words – over the lie I was about to
tell. “No,” I admitted regretfully. “I don’t want anybody judging him. Dexter’s
sick… but people will just think he’s weak and selfish.”

“Oh, honey. If he judges Dexter, it’s only because he loves you. He
obviously adores you. That’s why he’s here. You can’t blame him for being
protective of you.”

“I know,” I said under my breath, feeling deflated. “And I’ll tell him.
I will,” I resolved. “But I need to see Dexter first.”

“Okay, honey. Well I’ll wait out here too – give you some time
alone. Maybe he’ll talk to
you
.” She
sounded so defeated… and scared. It made my chest hurt. “And Emily,” she called
softly, tugging on my arm as I reached for the door to Dexter’s room. “What I
was saying earlier… about his blood results?”

“Yeah…”

“Well…” she trailed off, sounding nervous, terrified and all-out
exhausted. “Dexter overdosed on heroin. I don’t know when he made the step up…
I don’t know if he did it on purpose… I don’t-”

“No,” I interrupted firmly. “He wouldn’t do that. Dexter wouldn’t try
and
kill
himself.”

Would he?

“I hope you’re right. I hope he talks to you, because he sure as hell
won’t even
look
at me.” I brought
Sarah in for a hug because I didn’t know what else to do. She held me close for
a few long seconds before pushing me away, wiping a lone tear from her cheek
and smiling at me.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. I forced a weak smile and then she
patted my arm and left me alone. Dragging in a long, deep breath I pushed the
heavy door open hesitantly, and stepped inside with my eyes closed.

~Dexter~

Aunt
Sarah left a few minutes ago. I didn’t
know if she was going home or just grabbing something to eat. Guess I didn’t
really care.

My
hands were shaking so badly as I leaned over to the wheeled table next to my
bed for some water, I ended up spilling it all over the floor. I yelled in
frustration then I punched my trembling fist into the mattress.

“Dexter?”

Fuck
no. This couldn’t be happening. Emily’s timid voice ripped through my heart and
I jerked my neck around towards the sweetest sound in the world.

“Emily,”
I breathed. “Get out,” I ordered shakily – withdrawal, disbelief and pure
fucking anger at myself making my voice falter.

“No,”
she said firmly. “Not this time.” I turned my head away from her and fixed my
eyes onto a mystery smudge on the window. Probably bird shit, I thought to
myself. I heard Emily’s graceful little footsteps growing louder as she neared
my bed but I didn’t acknowledge her. I couldn’t. I was shaking and sweating and
I stank like piss and vomit. The worst part? I knew she was going to want me to
promise to stay off the shit, yet right now – even with her so close to
me I felt faint as the smell of her almond shampoo assaulted my nose –
the only thing I could think about was getting the fuck outta here and scoring.

“Dexter
look at me.” I felt the mattress dip when she perched her tiny ass on the edge
of it. I ignored her completely – too busy analyzing the dollop of bird
crap. “Jesus, you’re burning up.” I snatched my hand away from her –
ashamed of how violently it was shaking in her palm. “You can keep pushing me
away but I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah?
Where’ve I heard that before?” I was being a selfish bastard and I knew it. But
I’d let her down once before and it would only happen again. I’m not going back
there. I’m in no fit state to give her what she needs and I never will be.

In
that moment I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

I
looked into her eyes.

“I’m
sorry,” I mumbled guilty as I watched a single tear trickle mournfully down her
pink cheek. The pain of seeing her beautiful face look so broken, and knowing
that
I
was the cause, was too much to
deal with on top of the ferocious aches wracking through my body so I looked
away again.

Silence
followed. It was a torturous calm – one that flooded the air and made it
difficult to breathe. I was getting restless. The shakes were intensifying and
the pangs twisting deep inside my gut were making me want to vomit. I needed
Emily to leave. I needed to call the nurse and ask when the fuck my next dose
of whatever shit they’re pumping me with was due. I needed to shout and scream
and punch the fuckin’ wall until my knuckles started bleeding…

I
couldn’t do any of that shit with her here. She’d seen enough.

“Did
you do it on purpose?” Emily asked gingerly, crashing into the dense wall of
silence.

“What
the fuck kind of question is that?” I snapped angrily – knowing exactly
what she meant. “I’m not a fucking head case!” The longer she stayed the closer
I became to losing it. The pain in my bones was becoming unbearably intense and
I just wanted to curl myself up into a ball and rock it away.

“No,”
I eventually added, taking lingering, calming breaths. I’m too much of a pussy
to kill myself. “But that doesn’t mean I wish I hadn’t succeeded.” The second I
heard a pain-filled gasp catapult from Emily’s lungs I regretted the words that
just tumbled out of my worthless fucking mouth. I thought about taking them
back but it would just be another lie. She’d heard enough of them and she
didn’t deserve any more.

Truth
is, I wish to God I’d never woke up.

Emily
grabbed my hand again but when I tried to shrug it away she clamped harder. It
was pointless resisting. My veins have been pumped with that much shit since I
got here I was too weak to put up a decent fight. Yeah alright… so I’m not
averse to filling my veins with junk, but whatever they’ve been using here has
wiped me the fuck out.

“But
at least you can get the help you need now,” Emily continued nervously. “Sarah
said they will admit you back into the rehab clinic. You can get clean… get
counseling…”

“I
don’t want any fucking help,” I barked. “What I want, is to get the fuck out of
here and score the first rock of shit I can find. What I want is to stop the
consuming pains ricocheting through my body. I want to stop the burn in my
throat – like salt being rubbed into a gaping wound – from throwing
up so often. I want to stop the shaking, the sweating and all the goddam
fucking hurt!” I ripped my fingers through my hair so forcefully loose strands
were wedged between my fingers when I brought my hands over my face. “But most
of all… I want to forget.”

What
I wanted… was a hit.

“You
don’t mean that,” she argued weakly. “That’s not the real you talking.”

“Yes,
doll. It
is.
I
always
come back to this.” Ice-cold sweat starting seeping from my
shivering pores – soaking straight through the blue gown they’d dressed
me in and onto the sheets. “I need you to go now,” I said – my voice weak
as I tried to swallow back vomit. “Please, doll,” I added when she made no
attempt to move.

“No.”

“Seriously…
I’m gonna…”

Fuck.

I
wiped my mouth on my forearm as I stared at the pool of vomit on the floor. I
was confused when I noticed Emily standing over me with her hand on my back. I hadn’t
noticed her rise from the bed and I couldn’t feel her touching me through the
violent spasms in my muscles.

“It’s
okay,” she whispered into my hair. “I’m here.”

“Why?”
I breathed solemnly, in between retches. “Why’d you come back, doll?” She
pulled my head against her chest and when I felt the rapid thrum of her heart
against my ear, a solitary tear trickled wretchedly down my face.

“Because
I love you.” Her timid voice cracked as she held my head steady in a vice like
grip. “Because I will
always
love
you.”

Still
holding me tightly to her chest, she rocked us back and forth for several
minutes. Gradually, the dry heaves grew weaker and the excessive sweat started
to dry…

For
now.

“I’m
scared, Emily,” I admitted for the first time. “I’m so fucking scared.” My body
trembled with a thousand different emotions – emotions I didn’t want or
deserve to feel. “Any good that was hidden inside of me is deteriorating. I
feel like I’m disappearing.”
 
Emily
took my face in her hands and pressed her nose against mine.

“You’re
not disappearing, Dex. I won’t let you,” she whispered against my lips before
brushing them with hers in one feathery soft movement. “And even if you did… I
would find you. I would find you and bring you back. I’ve tried leaving you
– tried to shock you…” She shook her head and closed her eyes, sucking in
a deep breath. “And it damaged us both. I will
never
make that mistake again. This journey is going to be hard
– I know that. It’s a road that will be painful, difficult and at times
terrifying if we take it together… but one that neither of us will survive if
we try and take it alone.”

Suddenly,
twenty-four years of pent up emotion bubbled to the surface and exploded out of
every pore in my body, leaving me a wailing, shaking mess as I fell apart in
Emily’s arms.

“Never
forget that I love you.” She mirrored the words I’d said so often to her. Then,
wrapping my arm around her and holding on tight – terrified of letting
her go but knowing I would have to… I cried impossibly harder.

~Emily~

When
Dexter cried
himself into a restless sleep I snuck out of the room. Sarah approached me
first and asked how he was with just a look. My throat was too swollen to talk
and I fell into her arms, becoming a shaking, sobbing mess. She held me like
that for a few minutes until I stopped choking on my own tears.

“Did he say anything?” she asked, worry creasing her face and making her
look old and tired.

“He said he’s scared.” My voice trembled as more tears began swimming
down my throat. “I didn’t expect him to look so…” I shook my head as I
struggled to find the right word. “Sick.”

“Horrible isn’t it?” she agreed, nodding weakly. “But that’s just the
drugs leaving his system. They’re giving him something to counteract it… wean
him off slowly. But it won’t last long. A few days maybe… then the hard work
starts.”

“Emmie?” Chris startled me with a hand on my shoulder. I smiled at him…
I think. I’m not sure how convincing it was.

“You two should go home. Get some rest,” Sarah suggested.

“I don’t want to leave him.”

“Honey, you’ve travelled a long way. You need something to eat and a
sleep. There’s nothing more you can do here tonight.”

“I think she’s right, Emmie,” Chris butted in.

“Besides,” Sarah continued. “I’ll be home myself soon. They’re due to
kick all visitors out any time now.”

“Okay,” I agreed reluctantly. Sarah gave me her new address again in
case I’d forgotten and told me where I could ring a taxi from. After kissing
her goodbye on the cheek, Chris picked up our luggage and walked alongside me
towards the exit.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” he asked when we neared the automatic doors
at the main entrance. I shook my head, unable to look at him and knowing I
would cry again if I did. “Well I’m right here when you are.”

**********

Wow. Sarah’s new place is tiny – even by the standards of my flat
in London. Well, I’m not too sure it
is
my
flat anymore. I miss it. I miss Rachel.

But I can’t afford to dwell on that just now.

There are only two bedrooms and I carried my things through to the one
that obviously wasn’t Sarah’s. The walls were bare, the queen-sized bed unmade
and there were boxes of Dexter’s belongings stuffed into the corner. I found
myself rummaging through them while Chris was familiarising himself with the
flat. In other words, he was being a nosey sod.

Beneath the magazines and DVD’s it was mostly clothes. I pulled out his
black t-shirt with the name of a band I’ve never heard of printed in cracked
white letters on the front. Burying my nose in it, I inhaled deeply. The
familiar scent tore through my heart and once again I was crying. I hugged the
black shirt tight to my chest and nuzzled the comforting fabric, letting it
absorb my sadness.

“Hey,” Chris said, popping his head around the doorframe. “Just letting
you know Sarah’s in the living room.”

“She’s home?” How long had I been sitting here for? It only felt like a
couple of minutes. Wiping my tears on the sleeve of my caramel jumper, I
nodded. “I’ll be through in a minute.”

“I like her. She’s a sweet lady,” he said sincerely. He almost sounded
surprised.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a smile. “She is.”

After tucking Dexter’s t-shirt under my pillow I hopped in the shower
and changed into my cupcake pyjamas before heading through to the living room.
The homely aroma of beef and onions wafted up my nose and it was only then that
I realised how hungry I was.

“Shepherd’s pie,” Sarah beamed when she saw me approaching.

“You remembered?”

“Of course I remembered, honey. You’re like a daughter to me.” My heart
melted and I didn’t miss the rise of one of Chris’ eyebrows when he realised
just how close Sarah and I are.

“Do you need any help?” I offered.

“No thanks. I’m making good use of your brother here.” Widening my eyes
in disbelief I looked at Chris. Sure enough he was
actually
helping.

In a kitchen.

Preparing food that didn’t require the packet stabbing and popping in
the microwave.

“God you’re good,” I praised Sarah, blinking my eyes in case I was
imagining the image of Chris being a domestic god.

“She hit me with a tea-towel,” Chris scoffed, never looking up from the
carrots he was dicing. We all giggled, but it was strained. I knew Sarah was
with me in feeling physically sick with worry about Dexter and I knew Chris was
worried too, even though he didn’t know why.

There is a small, round, pine table in Sarah’s kitchen and I sat myself
on one of the two wooden stools around it while I watched them work on dinner.
We made idle chitchat for a while – discussing trivial things like our
flight and Chris’ garage… anything to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“Mind if I take a shower too?” Chris asked Sarah when he ran out of jobs
to do. All the vegetables were simmering away on the stove and the meat was
browning nicely in the frying pan.

“As long as you’re back to wash the dishes, knock yourself out,” Sarah
teased. Chris saluted her and then kissed the top of my head on his way past.
When I was sure he was out of earshot I turned to Sarah.

“I have Patricia’s cheque with me,” I announced quietly. She pursed her
eyebrows and came to join me at the table. “I think you should cash it. I don’t
know much about medical bills and stuff, but I know you have to pay for the
kind of treatment Dexter will need over here. That money could solve that for
you.”

“I think you’re right,” she agreed with a long sigh as she lowered
herself onto the other stool. “But I want to talk to her myself first.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” I said, straightening my back.
“What if Martin’s there?”

“That piece of shit doesn’t scare me.” I’m sure I gasped a little at her
determination. Like me, Sarah doesn’t swear often and so when she does, you
know she means business. “I’ll never let him hold that kind of power over me.”

“At least let me come with you.”

“You don’t have to do that, honey. You have enough to deal with just
now.” And she doesn’t?

“So do you,” I countered. “I want to come with you,” I said decisively.
Smiling that sweet, motherly smile of hers, Sarah nodded her head.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” she decided. A brief silence followed and then
Sarah gave me a questioning frown. I knew what she was going to ask before she
even opened her mouth and I wasn’t looking forward to it. “Are you going to
tell your brother why Dexter is in the hospital?” Yep. I knew it. I shrugged my
shoulders like a petulant child. “I think you should.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I just don’t know how. I don’t want him to hate
him.”

“You can’t keep covering for Dex, honey. He knows the situation he’s
putting us all in when he scores himself that first bag. He has to deal with
the consequences. Not everyone will love him enough to forgive him.”

Sarah’s words were hard to hear – even harder to accept. But I
knew she was right. Dexter is a grown man and I know he wouldn’t expect or want
me to cover for his mistakes.

“I will. I’ll tell him. I just need a couple of days to get my head
around things myself first.” If you think I’m procrastinating… trying to put
off the conversation… then you’d be absolutely right.

“Right,” Sarah said resolutely as she stood from the table. “Enough of
the serious. Let’s enjoy dinner.” Smiling appreciatively, I stood up too and
together we set about stirring, mashing and plating up.

“CHRIS!” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth to make a megaphone.
“DINNER’S UP!”

**********

The next morning Sarah decided she wanted to visit Patricia straight
after breakfast, before we headed out to visit Dexter at the hospital. Although
she refused to show it, I suspected she was just as nervous as me and she
wanted to get it out the way. Using the excuse that we were going to pick up
some essentials for Dexter, we left Chris chilling out on his makeshift bed on
the couch.

“Sarah, there’s something I haven’t told you,” I confessed, staring
nervously out of the window as we drove.

“What is it, honey?”

“It’s Martin and Patricia. They have a daughter – Dexter has a
sister.” Sarah let out a long, purposeful breath through pursed lips. Then,
briefly taking her eyes off the road ahead, she turned and flashed me a soft
smile.

“That was always a possibility I guess. Poor girl.”

“She’s called Marianne. I haven’t met her,” I told her. “I don’t think
Patricia is in a much better position that Dexter’s mum was.” Sarah was already
aware of Patricia’s situation. I mentioned it when I first told her about the hefty
cheque. What I went on to tell her however, I hadn’t revealed before today.
“Martin gambles. According to Patricia he owes money to some very dangerous
people. That’s why he changed his name and that’s why she helped him fake his
death. I’m not excusing her, but I think everything she’s ever done to help him
was done out of fear.”

Sarah nodded contemplatively but we both remained silent. It stayed that
way for the rest of the fairly short drive. It was still hard to believe
Dexter’s father has lived undetected right here in Ohio, practically spitting
distance from his son for all these years.

When we pulled up outside the massive house, Sarah breathed the same
disbelieving tut as I did the first time I came here, when the realisation hit
that the man who has everything, left her with nothing.

After parking we climbed out of the car at the same time. Sarah bounded
purposefully towards the front door like a woman on a mission and I trailed
warily behind her. Patricia opened the door before we had chance to ring the
bell – she must’ve seen us arrive.

“I can’t do this now,” she flustered, sweeping her blonde hair from her
face. “Kevin’s due home any minute.”

“But I need to talk to you,” Sarah all but demanded.

“There’s a café on Mayfield. Michelangelo’s?”

“I know it,” Sarah nodded.

“I’ll meet you there in an hour. Please… just… you need to leave now.”
Nodding in silent agreement, Sarah backed away from the door as Patricia
started to close it.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Sarah asked me as we walked back to the car.

“Yes. I do.” Maybe I was being naïve, but a strong part of me truly
believed Patricia wanted to help us.

Sarah drove us straight to the café, though after stepping inside I
would class it as more of a fancy restaurant. We sat by the window at a mahogany
table adorned with candles in little glass holders and leather-bound menus. We
worked our way through two coffees mostly in silence. Patricia arrived just
like she said, almost exactly an hour later.

I stood up when she entered the café and waved, drawing attention to us.
Forcing a small smile, she ambled over to our table and we sat down
simultaneously.

“I’ve been expecting you to get in touch,” she said, shrugging out of
her leather mac. She looked better than the last time we met. No bruises
– visible one’s at least. “I noticed you haven’t cashed the cheque I gave
you.”

“It didn’t feel right,” Sarah said guardedly, assessing Patricia with
her eyes.

“That money is from me. It has nothing to do with Kevin. I
want
you to have it. Think of it as payment
for the house we took from you.”

“
Kevin?
” Sarah pressed.

“That’s Martin’s new name,” I clarified.

“Look, I’ve said this before to Emily, but I want to be clear… I don’t
agree with what Kevin has done to you and your family. And… I’m going to try
and put things right.”

“How?” Sarah snapped, slamming her fist onto the table. My back
involuntarily snapped straight up. I’d never seen her so angry before. “How the
fuck
can you put anything that
bastard has done right?”

“Sarah, calm down,” I pleaded gently, placing my hand on her stiffened
shoulder. People were staring and I couldn’t exactly blame them. There was a
sour-faced lady making up sandwiches behind the counter keeping a watchful eye
on us. I suspected she was waiting for an opportunity to throw us out.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah uttered on a long exhale.

“I’m setting plans in motion to expose Kevin.”

“But… you’ll be exposing yourself too. You’ll go to jail,” Sarah
interjected, folding her arms across the table.

“I’m hoping it won’t go that far. Kevin knows I’m capable of falsifying
evidence… he knows I have contacts. But so far he’s always trusted the belief
that I’m too afraid to use my skills against him. And up until now… I have
been. But not anymore. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t destroy any more lives.
I can’t take any more beatings. And I sure as hell can’t continue letting my
daughter grow up in the middle of all this.