Tight Knit (7 page)

“I think I was led in here on false pretences, Gram. I didn’t know there would be volunteering.”

“Well, you just think about that next time you want to be dishonest with me and try to play me for a fool. I can play that game, too.” Georgina crosses her frail arms across her chest and Lachlan’s face turns three shades of red. Fury flashes behind his dark eyes and his jaw muscle twitches but he just slouches further into his chair. He doesn’t say another word the entire meeting. As soon as we’re done, Lachlan’s out the door without a glance in our direction. 

“I’m sorry about Lachlan, Talia. He’s been so misguided his whole life that it’s just hard to rein him in, you know?” 

I nod, but I don’t know. I have no clue.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lachlan

I clutch the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. I want to punch something but I just hold on. As long as my hands stay on the wheel I’ll be fine. 

“Did I embarrass you in front of Talia?” Gram says about half way home. 

“I don’t care about her,” I snap. 

I know that hurts her feelings and I instantly regret saying it. I just can’t control myself when I’m mad. 

“Did you ever think that maybe she doesn’t much care for you either because you act like a big pig-headed buffoon around her? All that girl cares about is making her grandma proud by doing her job as leader of our group. Now that may not seem like a big deal to you, Lachlan, but to her it is. So I would suggest you smarten up and start acting like a man, not a boy.” 

I’m not sure how to react. I’m not surprised that Talia doesn’t like me, I’m surprised that I care. 

I turn to Gram and smirk. 

“Did you just call me a pig-headed buffoon?” 

“I most certainly did.” She smiles. 

The only person I can never stay angry with is Gram. If this girl is important to Gram, then I will do what I can to help. 

If nothing else Talia has an ass worth staring at for twelve weekends.

“Sorry, Gram.” 

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.” 

We drive in silence the rest of the way home. 

~

The text comes at 8pm. 

408 10th Ave
 

I slide my phone back into my pocket and stick my head into the living room.

“Hey Gram, I’m going to run to the store and grab some ice cream. You want anything?”

“No thanks.” She doesn’t look at me and I’m glad. 

I slip my shoes on and head to the garage. The guilt of lying to Gram again fills my thoughts. I’m not paying attention as I push my motorbike out onto the street and almost run over Talia. 

“What are you doing here?” I hiss at her and by the hurt expression on her face I’m guessing it came out wrong. 

She slams the box she’s holding into my chest. I brace my bike with my legs, trying not to drop either.

“Bringing this stuff by for Georgina. It’s Nan’s notes for the sale. She wants us to go over it.” Her voice is tight. Her arms are straight by her side. She is so rigid. So closed off. 

Gram’s right, she really doesn’t like me. Or maybe she’s just uptight, as straight as those knitting needles she loves so much, and talks to everyone like that. I don’t know, I barely know her. But something about her intrigues me. Something about the way she switches on and off. There’s more to her. I’ve never been curious like this about someone, until this afternoon at the meeting. How her skin felt when I took her hand. How everything around her was neat and in order and her knitting needles were lined up from biggest to smallest. How, from out of nowhere, she flared to life and shut me down without even blinking.  

I press the kickstand down with my heel and prop my bike on it. Steadying the box she forced into my arms, I walk back to the garage. I stop when I see the spare helmet hanging on the wall.

No way
, I think. This chick would never. 

But that just makes me want to try.

“Did you walk here?” I whisper. 

“Yeah, I don’t live too far away. Why are you whispering? Where are you going?” 

I grab the second helmet off the peg. I have no idea what I’m thinking but I hold it out to her. She stares at me with those huge blue eyes and I have an overwhelming need to uproot her sheltered existence. It’s an overpowering feeling and I know I should just walk away. I should leave her standing on our driveway and preserve her innocence but something about her, something about the way she looks at me, makes me want to drag her down into my world. Bring her to my level so I don’t feel so alone anymore. I get the feeling that she’s like me. Alone. 

“Put it on,” I say.

“But...” 

“Please.” I place the helmet on her head, clipping the strap under her trembling chin.

I flip up the bike stand and swing my leg over, kicking the bike to life. The motor rumbles, masking the thunderous sound of my heart against my ribs.

What the fuck am I doing?

“Get on.” I have to yell. Talia doesn’t move. I hold my hand out to her and she stares at it.

“Come on, trust me, Hat Girl.” 

She slowly takes my hand and I pull her to the bike. To me. She lifts her leg and adjusts herself behind me. I wrap her arm around my waist and glance over my shoulder at her. Her eyes are wide, shocked, and I get a sick sense of pleasure from it. This girl has probably never let go, she has probably never done anything wrong in her life. I grab her other hand and bring it around me too. 

“Hold on,” I say over the loud hum of the engine. She presses herself into my back and balls the front of my shirt into her fists. Her fingers dig into my skin.

Part of me says stop, to let her get off and go home, to tell her to forget I even exist and to never speak to me again. But another part of me feels like it’s the right thing to do. I need to bring her with me. I need her with me. I hate this feeling. Even more, I hate that I don’t know where this feeling is coming from.

I race through the streets, faster than I usually drive, and try to convince myself I’m not trying to scare her. Every time I take a corner too fast or hit the gas a little too hard she squeezes me tight, the entire length of her presses against me. I like it. I feel more alive than I have in months. Hell, I haven’t felt this good since I was using. 

I turn onto 10th Ave and stop a couple houses down from Garrett’s. I want Talia with me, I just don’t want her knowing what I’m doing. 

I cut the engine and have to pry her arms from me. I unsnap my helmet and then hers. Helping her pull hers off first. I’m glad I did because as soon as she’s free she starts hitting me. First she punches me in the chest, then slaps my arm and hits my helmet with both of her hands. I grab her hands. Her eyes are frantic and she’s not focusing on me or anything else. 

“Hey, hey? Talia. What’s wrong?” I press her hands to my chest so she can’t hit me again. 

“Nan?” Her voice squeaks and she’s breathing really fast, “Nan, I can’t.”

My eyebrows sink. What is she talking about? 

She continues to ramble, the words come so fast and disjointed I can’t keep up. 

Great. She’s gone nuts and it’s my fault. I rip the helmet from my head and let it drop to the ground. It makes a loud sound and Talia jumps. She still won’t focus. She’s going to pass out if she keeps breathing like that. 

What the hell is happening? 

I’m slammed with a vision from my past. Fast breaths. Shaking. Terrified. My night terrors of him. 

I grab Talia and pull her close. I lean over her and burry my face in her hair and hold her tight. Her shaking body presses against me. I have no idea why I’m doing this but it worked for me. When I was scared. Gram would hold me like this. Tight, like she could squeeze the fear out of me.

Her heavy breath heats my neck and I can’t see through her thick hair. I press my cheek to hers, like Gram used to do to me. My lips are by her ear. I know what I have to do, but I’m not entirely sure why. I take a deep breath, then pause. I feel like a fucking idiot. But she’s shaking so hard. 

I did this. I should never have brought her. I did this to her and I need to fix it.

The tune is shaky and uneven at first but soon I am humming smoothly in her ear. It’s the same tune Gram always used to calm me from my dreams. I have no idea if it will work but I did this to her. I have to try. 

I move so that our foreheads are touching. I stroke her cheek and continue to hum. 

Her frantic gaze finally catches mine and it’s like a light switch goes on in her brain. She focuses on me and we just stare at each other. Her breath slows and the panic in her eyes dies down but they are wide. Tears slide down her face. I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel like a bigger asshole. But I do.

I stroke her cheek with my thumb again then let my hand fall. She pulls back and wipes at her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Talia,” I start. “Talia, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d get so upset.” 

She looks down into her lap and her thin pink lips turn up into a weak smile. 

“No, I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.” She wipes her nose. 

“What was that?” I feel like she’s going to crumble to dust. I’m not too far off about how fragile she is. 

“A panic attack. It’s okay though, I’ve had them since I was a kid.” 

“Really. I’m so sorry,” I say again, and think of Gram’s words.

You’ve been saying that a lot lately.
 

“That song?” She tilts her head to the side. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or not. She’s not looking at me.

“I recognize that song.” This time she’s talking to me.

“Gram used to sing it to me when I was a kid.” I shrug, hoping she doesn’t ask why. She doesn’t. She pulls her eyebrows together and touches her cheek.

“Nobody’s been able to help me. Nobody but Nan.” She sounds confused. I think she’s talking to herself again. 

I open my mouth to ask what that means just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Instead I just mutter a curse. Her head lifts but I don’t meet her gaze.

I’m such a dick, and this isn’t going to make me look any better.

“Listen, Talia. I have to do something really quick. I’ll be two minutes then I’ll take you home and you can hate me for forever, okay?” 

She nods slowly. I can tell she doesn’t trust me. I don’t blame her. 

“Two minutes.” I reach out and run my hand along her cheek once more before stepping away from the bike. I don’t remember the last time I’ve had a physical connection with someone for that long. The feel of her skin lingers on my fingertips until I ring the bell at Garrett’s.

 “You’re late,” he says when he opens the gate.

CHAPTER NINE

Talia

I should leave. I should walk away from the bike, from Lachlan, but I don’t. I sit here. That tune is holding me here. Georgina’s tune.

How?

I press my hand to my cheek, the last of his toothpaste lingering in my nostrils. Lachlan had calmed me. He calmed my panic. He brought me back to myself. No one but Nan has ever been able to do that. Not Mom nor Dad nor Deacon nor Janna, not anyone. It’s almost enough to give me another panic attack. 

I climb off his bike and sit down on the curb, hanging my head between my knees and grabbing fistfuls of my hair. 

Night and day, that’s what Lachlan and I are. But for some strange reason I felt like he kind of got it, even though he caused it. He didn’t pull away or look at me like I was crazy. Maybe we do have something in common. The fact that no one gets us. That we’re always alone. 

But we’re so different. 

I force Lachlan from my thoughts and focus on my breathing. Expanding and contracting my chest slowly and smoothly. Counting how many seconds it takes me to breath in and out. My doctor told me it would help. It doesn’t help, it just gives me something else to think about for a while. My thoughts always end up back where they started in the end. 

Lachlan. The tune. Why I didn’t just walk away from him in the driveway. Why I reached for his hand. How he knew what to do to help me. The pressure of his body against mine, holding me, squeezing out the panic.

I have the feeling I’m being watched and I part my hands to see Lachlan. 

“You okay?” His voice shakes a little, which doesn’t suit him at all. I’ve never heard a word come out of his mouth that wasn’t dripping with confidence. 

“Yeah.” I try to smile. “I’m fine, really. I’m just hungry, actually. The attacks make me hungry.”

Lachlan smiles and the dying sun casts shadows across his face in all the perfect places. Definitely nice to look at. 

“I know just the place.” 

He holds his hand out to me and I glance sideways at the bike. I do not want to get back on that thing. 

“I’ll go slower. I promise.” 

He wiggles his fingers and I let him pull me up. 

He keeps his promise. I can actually see where we’re going and clutch at the sides of his worn out hoodie so I can lean back a little and watch the world fly by. It’s almost dark and I think about my parents. They’re probably worried about me. Wait, no, they probably don’t even know I’m gone. 

The wind whistles in my helmet and strands of hair whip around my neck, tickling my skin. Lachlan turns onto the bridge that leads to the other side of town, the tires rumble along the pavement. The sound vibrates through me, calming my nerves in the same strange way Lachlan did. 

The last hint of the sun bounces off the river and reflects back up at us. This isn’t how I imagined my night and under it all I’m not sure what to make of Lachlan’s actions, of my reactions or the effect he has on my anxiety. But I feel relaxed, which surprises me as much as Lachlan’s ability to calm me down with just a song.

He turns and smiles, pulling me from my thoughts. He has a gorgeous smile when it’s full and genuine.  

~

The waitress brings the biggest piece of apple pie I’ve ever seen and drops two spoons on the table with a clatter. Lachlan laughs. It’s full-bodied and authentic. Real. And no doubt about it, southern.