Tight Knit (14 page)

“What?” The way I glare when I say it makes her jump back. Her eyes sparkle at the potential for drama but we’re cut off by Georgina. She squeezes my knee. She knows. Lachlan must have told her. 

“You’re still taking my place at the shelter on Wednesday, right?” Georgina asks sweetly. “I know I said I would, but my old bones are extra creaky lately.” She smiles that conniving smile. Volunteering with Lachlan. She needs to stop throwing us together in hopes we stick. I roll my eyes. 

Marybeth scoffs. “She’s been hanging out with that grandson of yours too long, Georgie. She’s adopted his attitude.”

Georgina’s face sets into a neutral stare. She doesn’t look at anyone, but stands slowly, using the couch arm to brace herself. She puts away her knitting and leaves the shop. She doesn’t move fast which makes it a lot more awkward to watch her knowing she’s offended. 

The jingle of the door makes me shoot out of Nan’s chair and I sprint to the door, flinging it open. I practically run Georgina over just outside, forgetting she doesn’t make good distance at her age.

I slow to her pace and reach for her hand. She’s shaking, but I can’t tell if it’s nerves or she’s upset. Her face betrays nothing. I am thinking of what to say, when her eyes suddenly glaze with tears.

“He’s a good boy, Talia. He’s such a good boy.” She shakes her head lightly, and I squeeze her hand.

“He is, Georgina. He’s a great guy.” I’m not sure I believe it after what happened between us, but he’s this woman’s family.

“It’s really not his fault my stupid child fell for that rotten man,” she continues. I keep walking with her and nod. I’m not about to stop her from talking about the things Lachlan keeps locked away.

“From what I hear, rotten is a nice way to describe him.” 

Georgina wipes a tear from her cheek and puts her arm around my waist, squeezing me. It’s a very grandmotherly thing to do. If I didn’t have Nan I would definitely take Georgina as my grandma.

“No child should ever see what he saw. No child should feel what he felt. I’m surprised he isn’t worse.” Her eyes lose focus and she shakes her head. 

“Do you ever worry his dad will come back?” I think it’s a legitimate question, but the way Georgina’s looking at me I know I’m missing something. 

“He didn’t tell you?” Georgina shakes her head. I shiver in the cold October air as a shadow passes across me. 

“Tell me what?” I ask. 

Lachlan doesn’t really tell me anything.

Someone clears their throat behind us and we both jump. I spin to face Lachlan, utter betrayal saturating his features. 

“I haven’t told her yet, Gram.” His eyes dart from Georgina to me. “That I don’t have to worry about my father anymore—because he’s dead.” 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lachlan

If I could’ve spit fire with my words I would. With the amount of acid eating away at my stomach I wouldn’t be surprised. 

They both stand there, stupid fucking looks on their faces. Talia’s huge scared eyes are not cute right now. 

“You wanted to know so bad. There. You know. The poor troubled drug addict and his dead abusive daddy.” 

“Lachlan,” Gram starts, but I throw out my arms in a way that says ‘what are you gunna do about it now?’. I need to be somewhere else. For the first time in a long time, I want to get high. To numb out. Talia is making me feel things again, and I hate her for it. Gram and I were fine before her. 

I spin and walk back to the car. I let out a frustrated growl and punch an electric box jutting up from the sidewalk. My knuckle splits on the metal but the pain is welcome. A distraction. 

Suddenly I’m grabbed by the back of the shirt and dragged to a stop. I know it’s Talia so I keep walking until she grabs my arm with both her hands and yanks. 

“What!?” I step backwards. She needs to be out of my destruction path. I’m sure it’ll be easy. Her tail will tuck and she’ll scamper off like the scared sheltered girl she is.

She meets my glare with one of her own. She balls the front of my jacket in her fist with one hand and points a finger in my face with the other. The wind whips her hair across her face and leaves stir up around us. I have never seen this. Not from her. 

“Listen, you jerk,” she yells and pushes me hard. I fall back into the car and she steps in, closing the distance she put between us. She grabs me again and slams me back into the car.

“Seeing as violence is the only way you listen to anyone then I will make you listen.” She grabs my face in her hand.

Whoa! I am not sure if I’m scared or turned on but this is a part of Talia I never thought existed. 

I raise my hands, mostly so I don’t grab her and slam her up against the car and kiss her in front of Gram. 

“Georgina is protecting you! She was defending you, and I was comforting her. Yeah, people think you are nothing but an ex-con druggie but what are
you
doing to prove them wrong, Lachlan?”

Okay, that one stings. I feel the all too familiar anger, but I’m too shocked by this burst of passion from Talia that I can’t bring the anger to the surface.

That and she has a point.

“I—” I try and she cups her hand over my mouth.

“I swear, Lachlan McCreedy, if you say
sorry
one more time, I will never speak to you again.” 

She rips her hand away and stalks off. I’m dazed. But definitely turned on. 

Talia glances over her shoulder. “I know how you see me, Lachlan. Like I’m weak and spineless, but at least I can admit it. I know I have problems, and I know what they are. But at least I’m not a coward. At least I can ask for help.” 

And just like that she’s gone. 

As if it’s a message from the karma gods, and they hate me by the way, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slump into the car as the burn of her words crawls across my skin. My scars all open up, my wounds gaping, waiting for the pain. I’ve felt a lot of pain in my life. I’ve been broken, had cigarettes put out on my skin, had sliced my own wrist open with a dull blade, but nothing hurt as much as the look on Talia’s face when she called me a coward. I am a fucking coward.

Gram puts her hands on my face, and I lean forward so she can hug me. She runs her hand down my head until she cups my neck and puts her mouth to my ear.

“Isn’t it lovely to know how much Talia cares for you?” 

I lean back, completely confused. By the way she screamed at me, she definitely doesn’t care for me. Gram sighs and pats my face like I’m a child who just doesn’t quite get it.

“I think I’ll drive today.” 

~

I get three texts before I actually head to Garrett’s. They were pissed at how late I was last Sunday. I think they’re getting tired of me. They don’t even offer me drugs anymore. Violet is gone again, and Garrett looks like he’s rotting from the inside out. All he says to me this time is, “I can’t cover for you, dude.” 

I can’t believe I used to be friends with these people. I can’t believe I let them ‘solve’ my little problem. 

But I still go. I still run for them. I’m running to the same place almost every time now. Deacon’s. 

I know it’s Deacon who’s dealing now, after I saw his little handoff at school on Monday. He had the nerve to do it right in front of Talia, but I blocked her. I said something stupid and she got mad at me, although I think she is
still
mad at me for the whole dead-dad-coward thing. Saying stupid things is the easiest way to make her walk the other way and pissing off girls is also something I excel at.

  It’s Tuesday, and it’s late. I am on my motorbike. It’s probably the last time I’ll be able to ride it judging by the bite in the air. It’s almost Halloween and decorations are scattered across lawns, lights strung around windows and cotton stretched along fences. I reach Deacon’s place and park across the street. 

It’s also almost my birthday. I can’t keep doing this running.

I fling the package over the fence and turn to leave. 

“Well, ain’t this some shit.” Deacon strolls up the sidewalk. 

My body freezes and the muscle in my jaw tightens. I hate this punk. No, it doesn’t have anything to do with Talia, and the fact that this guy used to have his hands on her, kiss her, or I don’t even want to think what else. 

I walk past him, bumping his shoulder and glaring down at him.

He flinches, and I swell with satisfaction. At least the little shit is still scared of me. 

Once I am halfway across the street Deacon speaks again.

“See you around,
Lachlan
. Nice bumping into you.” He emphasizes my name.

Slimy little fu–I take a deep breath.

“Oh, and just FYI… I see the way you look at her. Don’t waste your time. She’s too good for you, and it’s only a matter of time before she figures it out.” 

If I go down, I’m taking you down with me
, I think and smile. I reach over my head and give him the finger. 

I’m glad he can’t see my face, because I completely agree with him. Eventually she will figure it out.

~

So what do I do when I resolve that I need to leave Talia alone? How do I behave when I decide that Talia deserves much better than a screw up like me?

I show up at her house at midnight and send her multiple text messages that say
clack
.
 

Good job, shithead
, I think. 

I have to see her. 

I’m just about to send another when she texts me back.

What is wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?
 

I smile.

I’m throwing stones. Go to your window.

A light flicks on in a second story window, and I’m glad her room is facing the street or this would have been awkward.

Her figure appears as she draws back the curtains. I text her.

I didn’t know which window was yours ;)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Talia

I’m glad Lachlan can’t see me because I’m grinning like an idiot, and I shouldn’t be. I’m mad at him but I’m starting to think I’ll always be mad at him. 

I sigh and let the curtain fall.

And that maybe I’m okay with that. 

I lift my phone and text.

You are ridiculous. Who does that?

I steal one more look at him outside, leaning on his motorbike. 

Oh boy, I’m in trouble. 

Throwing on jeans, a pair of socks and a sweater, I pad my way down the stairs quietly. Mom is on the couch again, and I pause to watch her. She mutters in her sleep and turns to face the back of the couch. I suddenly get the urge to wake her up and tell her everything. I glance at the door then back at Mom. I’ll talk to her soon. I have to. I wait until her breathing evens out then carefully open the door, grabbing my coat and shoes. I’ve never snuck out of the house before, and I’m shocked at how easy it is.

I run down the steps and out to the sidewalk. Lachlan hands me a helmet and smiles that crooked smile that I love to hate. Or hate to love? I don’t know anymore. 

I don’t say anything, just put on my coat, shoes and the helmet and hop on behind him. Lachlan’s wearing an old faded leather coat that feels stiff in the cold air. 

He kicks the bike to life and we drive away. He takes hold of my arm wrapped around his waist and slides his hand down until his fingers touch mine. He laces our hands together and squeezes. It makes my stomach jump. I shouldn’t feel this way about him. Or maybe I should. I’m so confused, but I know that it feels good to hold him. 

The air snaps at my skin and cuts through my coat as we fly down the streets, but I feel warm, content and light when I’m on Lachlan’s bike. The comfort of his body, the force of the wind and the sound of the motor soothes my nerves. Never would I have guessed that motorcycles would be one of the keys to calming my anxiety. 

I laugh. My chest heaves and Lachlan shifts so he can see me. He has a questioning grin.

I laugh harder. I might be going crazy. I can’t stop. Eventually Lachlan has to pull over. We are on the bridge. 

“What the hell, Hat Girl?” He turns his body to face me. I take off my helmet and wipe my face. 

“I don’t know,” I hiccup. “I don’t know what’s so funny.” 

He steps off the bike and holds a hand out. I take it and hop off, putting my helmet on the seat. He walks me to the edge of the bridge, never letting go of my hand. 

My breathing is slower, the laughing has stopped but I’m still grinning. I let go of Lachlan’s hand to reach out for the metal railing. I press my stomach against it and watch the water rushing by. I wonder if the water feels the same way I do as is flows wildly to who knows where—completely lost and out of control. 

Lachlan steps up behind me. I feel him even though he’s not touching me. One hand on either side of me, he grips the metal railing of the long bridge that connects the two sides of our city. 

The smile falls from my face and I spin slowly, until we’re face to face. His dark features are scrunched up like he’s in pain, or thinking hard about something. He leans forward, closing the tiny space we had between us. I think he’s going to kiss me, so I close my eyes, knowing I shouldn’t want his lips on mine the way I do. 

His breath grazes my cheek and his lips brush lightly against the skin. Then he pulls back and I open my eyes. 

That’s it?

He sighs and presses his body closer to mine, making me tingle from head to toe. 

“I’m a drug runner.” His voice is tight and falters a little at the end. 

It’s like a slap in the face. The tingling turns cold, more out of shock than anything else. 

“What?” I heard him but my brain isn’t computing. 

“The text messages, that house... Deacon’s. I run drugs for a local dealer.” 

I open my mouth a few times. It seems like it’s physically painful for him to say it. His eyes won’t meet mine so I reach for his face and force him to look at me. 

“Why?” I had so many questions, especially about Deacon but this is what I settledon.