Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (8 page)

“I’m not slipping,” I mumbled weakly,
unable to look her in the eye. “I’m just…” Hell, I didn’t even know what I was
anymore. “I’ve thought about it. But I haven’t acted on it I swear to you. I
wouldn’t risk losing you or Emily. I’d be nothing without you.” Fuck me, I
almost believed myself for a second. “But I won’t ever agree with you giving
him the house. If you do, he’s won.”

“You mean more to me than some twisted
competition,” she said solemnly.

“What about Mom? You remember her?”

“
Don’t
speak to me like that, Dexter,” she warned. “You know how much I loved your
mom.”

“If you let him get his own way, again,
just like he always has… you might as well just piss on her grave.” Why was
nobody with me on this? What about you? Do
you
think he should hold the power to make us roll over whenever he snaps his
fingers? After all the pain and devastation he’s caused? ‘Cause if you do, you’re
as weak as Sarah.

“That’s uncalled for. I’m trying to
protect you!”

“Yeah? Well I don’t
need
protecting. I don’t need anything
from anyone. I’m better off on my fucking own. Always have been. Always will
be.” Christ I was seething. The blood in my veins was so hot with rage I
started to sweat.

“Don’t do this, Dex. Don’t go there
again I’m begging you.” Aunt Sarah reached out for me but I shrugged away from
her.

“Like you give a shit,” I spat before
stalking off towards the front door.

“Don’t, Dexter,” she pleaded. “Think of
that girl up there!” she cried. “She loves you! She
needs
you!”

“Yeah? Well she’s better off without
me.”

                           
~Emily~
     

“
Emily
honey, can I talk with you
for a moment?” Sarah asked when I made my way downstairs. I’d just heard the
front door slam and I didn’t need to ask to know it was Dexter storming off
out. Again.

“Sounds ominous,” I
replied apprehensively, taking up a spot next to her on the couch.

“It’s Dexter,” she said
soberly – her words and terrified expression slicing through the centre
of my heart. “I think he’s using again.”

“Using what?” Just one
breath later what Sarah was implying clicked into place and I immediately threw
my hand over my mouth. “Drugs? You think he’s using
drugs
?” I asked in shocked disbelief. “No. No he wouldn’t do that
again,” I said with weak determination.

“I know the signs, honey.
He’s been all over the place lately. He’s happy one minute, blowing someone’s
head off the next. He’s become quiet and secretive. He’s going for more runs
than usual – burning off too much energy. He’s getting angry at the drop
of a hat. He’s using… I know he is.”

“But… well…” I wanted to
disagree with her so badly but everything she said was the truth. “He’s going
through a hard time. He’s just lost his mum, his dad’s shown up, he’s worried
about you… and the house… He’s bound to be stressed out about it all.” Was I
making excuses for him? Yes. Yes I was. Deep down I knew that, but until I had
proof that Dexter was screwing with drugs again, it hurt less to believe a lie.

“Maybe,” Sarah muttered,
but I suspected she was just trying to appease me. “I hope you’re right.” I
nodded weakly – my mouth too dry and my brain too foggy to form words.

“I’m gonna turn in,” I
said glumly, standing from the couch. “Let me know if you hear from him. I
don’t care what time it is, just come in and tell me.”

“Sure I will, honey. He’ll
be back don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He
always comes back, right?”

I just wish he’d stop
leaving in the first place.

Damn you Dexter Michaels.

Damn you.

After taking a shower and
changing into my pink pyjama shorts and cami top, I tried calling Dexter. I
wasn’t surprised in the slightest when I got his voicemail and I didn’t bother
to try again. I never wanted nor expected our relationship to come to this, so
was quite disgusted when I found myself rummaging through his belongings. I
didn’t even know what I was looking for. Money, drugs… Would I even know what a
packet of drugs looked like? I mean I’ve seen them on the telly, but do they
really come in little clear bags?

So, after fifteen minutes
spent rifling through his things – his clothes, his drawers, inside his
shoes – I came up empty handed. Strangely that didn’t make me feel any
better though. Dexter isn’t a stupid man. If he
was
using again I doubt he’d leave anything incriminating where it
could be found easily. Drugs make people devious. Isn’t that what people say?

I couldn’t stop the tears
from escaping when I climbed into the empty bed. For the first time in the
three months since I’d known Dexter I started to wonder if I had in fact,
jumped in too deep.

Then I hated myself for
ever thinking such a thing.

Time is irrelevant. It
doesn’t matter if I’ve known Dexter three months or three years the point is
that I love him. He warned me before he’d even kissed me for the first time
what a future with him could entail. Granted, I never expected it to happen
this soon – if at all – and I sure as hell didn’t expect it to be
this hard… but because I loved him it didn’t matter. It
doesn’t
matter. I promised him I wouldn’t let him down and I won’t.

Then again, I feel like
I’ve already let him down. If I haven’t, then why would he feel the need to
return to the life he worked so hard to escape from?

Just as my tears began to
dry – I think I’d literally used up my entire body’s supply – my
heart leapt into my throat at the sound of a text message. I bolted upright and
leaned across to the nightstand to grab it. My pulse throbbed violently through
my fingers against the phone and when I swiped across the screen… everything
slowed down again.

Rachel: I miss you Ho
<3

God I miss her too. In some warped way I even miss being called ‘Ho’. I
know it might seem like a strange, or even insulting, nickname to some people
but I know she means it in the sweetest of ways. I remember the exact day she
came up with it. We were fourteen years old and after pestering me for weeks I
finally agreed to her giving me a makeover. As punishment for making her wait
so long however, she went completely OTT. She caked my face in orange
foundation, weighed down my lashes with four coats of mascara, plastered my
cheeks in blusher and smothered my lips in bright red lipstick.

“I look like a
prostitute!”
I remember saying when I caught sight of
my hideous reflection in the mirror.

“Well I think you
look pretty good… for a ho,”
she teased, unable
to hide the waves of laughter wracking through her body. Since that day the
name kind of stuck. I think Rachel likes the irony of it. I mean I was
seventeen before I had my first kiss – very
un
-ho like.

It’s too easy to forget about my life back home with all the crap
consuming my every waking thought just now and I’m always glad for a reminder
from her. Though it worried me a little. I know Rachel loves me – we’ve
been best friends forever – but she never willingly shows her feelings
like this. Not out of the blue.

Me: I miss u more.
Really need a friend right now. U ok? U don’t sound right x

Rachel: How can u hear
me? Lol. I’m good. Just need a friend too xxx

Okay so now I was
really
worried.
Rachel didn’t need anyone.
Ever.
Or
at least that’s what she likes people to believe.

Me: ur worrying me.
Talk to me x

Rachel: Don’t worry
about me. U got enuf on ur plate ho. U no me – it’s just man trouble ;-)

Me: U met a guy?
WHO?????

Rachel: U wouldn’t
believe me if I told u x

Me: Try me? Ur
killing me here!

Rachel: Jared

Me: Seriously stop
messing around and tell me!

Rachel: Knew u
wouldn’t believe me ;-)

Flopping backwards onto the bed I re-read our text conversation several
times. It’s difficult to make out sarcasm in writing and I honestly couldn’t
tell if she was pulling my leg. It’s weird because I’d seen Rachel and Jared
growing closer before we left for the states and I’ve said more than once
they’re perfect for each other. They’re both missing a brain to mouth filter.
They have the same sordid sense of humour, the same dirty mouths, the same
taste in noise (I refuse to call the crap they listen to ‘music’)…

So why was I sitting here feeling flabbergasted with a giant grin on my
face? I suppose it’s because I thought they were both too stubborn to admit it
to themselves.

Me: I knew it! I knew
u were in2 each other! If ur seriously not messing around, then I am SOOOO
happy for u! x

Me: Hold on… if it’s
true – y u sad about it???

Rachel: I’m not
tuggin ur weaner ho. I really like him. Like REALLY. Guess it kinda scares the
shit out of me :thing x

Me: Y? ur perfect for
each other. U’ve been with loads of guys – what’s different? X

Rachel: Cheers ho. Y
don’t u just come out n call me a slag?? It’s different coz he’s my friend. And
it’s different coz I think I might… u know?? X

Oh. My. God. Rachel… ‘I don’t need anybody’ Rachel… is in
love!

Me: OMG do u LOVE
him???????????????????

Rachel: I don’t no! I
mean I think so… but… ah fuck I just don’t no ho! Hey I’m a poet – who
knew? ;-)

I rolled my eyes playfully when I read her reply. I miss that. Before we
came here I rolled my eyes as often as I took a breath. It made me realise how
much I miss her humour – how much I miss her candidness and even her
vulgarity. Dexter used to provoke the eye roll too. But lately the only thing
he seems to be able to do to my eyes is make them weep.

Me: I miss u so much
xxx

Damn. Tears were welling behind my eyes again. Chatting with Rachel,
even briefly over text, felt so…
normal
.
For those few brief minutes I forgot about the reason why I was lying here
alone in a cold bed.

Me: Everything will
work out just fine. I’ll b home before u no it then I can slap some sense into
u ;-) I love u Rach. X

Rachel: Love u too
ho. I’m glad we talked (or typed!) xxx

Tossing my phone onto the empty pillow beside me, I cried myself to
sleep.

**********

When I woke up the next morning I found Dexter asleep on the couch. I
smiled warmly…
regretfully
. He looked
so content. His face was smooth – free from worry creases, his hair was the
tousled mess I fell in love with and his lips were soft… pliable. Lately
they’ve been set into such a firm, unmoving line and I found myself just
staring at them. He looked like
my
Dexter,
and not the hostile version
 
-
ravaged by guilt and pain.

“Good morning,” Sarah greeted with a weak smile. She came into the
living room wearing a flowy skirt with giant flowers printed on it and a
matching cami. Then she set the two mugs of coffee she was carrying down onto
the coffee table and took up stance next to me where she too just stared at
Dexter.

“You’re right aren’t you,” I muttered, but it wasn’t actually a
question. Seeing him sleeping so peacefully it was suddenly glaringly obvious
that he was
not
this man when he was
awake. Someone else was taking over his body – or rather some
thing
else.

Our voices must have caused him to stir because Dexter startled awake
and jumped up from the couch.

“Sorry, honey. We didn’t mean to wake you,” Sarah apologised.

“Emily…” Dexter breathed, ignoring Sarah’s comment. “Emily I’m-”

“Sorry?” I cut him off. He sighed deeply, looking down to his feet and
stuffing his hands into the pocket of his jeans.

“Can we talk?” he asked nervously. He sounded like a lost little boy and
my breaking heart wouldn’t allow me to say no to him. I nodded weakly and
cocked my head towards the stairs for him to follow. When we reached the bottom
of the stairs Dexter turned his head back to the living room, making eye
contact with Sarah.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Sarah,” he said gravely.

“I know you are,” was all she said. She looked so tired… almost
defeated. Her face in that moment was pure, gut-wrenching heartache
personified. She looked exactly like how I felt inside.

Absolute shit.

**********

“This needs to end, Dexter,” I said, slumping down onto the mattress.

“What? No!” he blasted, a look of sheer terror washing over his face.

“Not us,” I reassured, realising my mistake. “I mean this whole mess
with your father. I know you don’t want to be seen as giving in, but it’s
destroying you, baby. It’s destroying
us
.
I don’t care if he wins. It’s just not worth losing what we have.”

“We won’t lose it. How can you even think that?”

“Because it’s already happening,” I announced solemnly. “We’re drifting
apart – you must see that?”

“Like hell I see it! I fucking love you!”

“It’s not enough!” I retorted. But then, seeing the horror on his face,
I mellowed. “I’m miserable, Dexter. I’ve not cried so much in my whole life as
I have since I got here.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled guiltily.

“Don’t put it all on you,” I said firmly, because I could tell by the
pain clouding his eyes that he was. “We never came here to have fun. Your mum
was dying… of course there’d be tears. But now… the only thing upsetting me is
you. And I don’t mean that how it sounded. I mean… your dad – he’s behind
it all. I have to watch you struggling every single day and it’s killing me.
You won’t talk to me. You won’t talk to Sarah… You’re angry all the time and it
scares me.”

“Whoa, I would
never
hurt you,
doll,” he interrupted, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.