Tight Knit

by Allie Brennan

  My heart is thundering. Telling someone to not freak out means it is probably worth freaking out over.

  “What Mom? I promise.” She should know I can’t promise that.

  “You can’t go tonight because visiting hours are over, but I got a call from your Grandmother.” Her voice trails off as the white noise in my brain takes over. I hear static but I see Nan. I haven’t been to see her all week because I’ve been trying to sort out my head. Everything with Lachlan and Janna and even Nan has me all turned upside down and I just need to think. I can’t handle seeing her like a shell of her past self. I need the strong Nan. Now I wish I would have gone to her. Maybe she needed me? Why do I keep failing the people I care about the most?

  “Talia?” Mom yells. “You’re not freaking out are you?”

  “No, not freaking,” I lie.

  “So you’ll go by tomorrow then? No freaking out, honey. I’ll see you Monday. Your father says hi.”

  “Of course, Mom. I’ll go in the morning.” I try to keep my voice even, but I don’t remember what she said to me. I can’t ask though, because she’ll know I went into panic mode. She doesn’t sound upset. But that doesn’t mean much. My mother is an expert at pleasantries.

  I hang up and barely have a second to think when the doorbell rings. I’m not expecting anyone and I know it sounds stupid, but I get scared when I’m home alone. I slept in my parent’s bed for most of the week.

  Putting the half melted ice cream on the coffee table I look out the window, but I can’t see who is on the porch. I put my eye to the peephole and my heart seizes. I can’t see his face because he’s hunched over but I know those curls anywhere.

  I throw open the door and his body comes crashing down onto me. My legs buckle under his weight and we both go down.

  “Lachlan?” I’m scared for completely different reasons now and try to lift his head with my shoulder. The cold air blows in from outside and small pile of snow is forming on the front mat. Finally, I put my weight behind it and heave Lachlan back so he’s on his knees, sitting on his heels. He wheezes and all my insides contract. His breath is shallow and sounds painful but other than that I can’t see anything wrong with him. No blood, no black eyes, no bruises I can see but he definitely had the crap kicked out of him. His broken hand is held to his chest. His eyes are unfocused and he’s mumbling something I can’t understand.

  I reach across him and throw the door closed, shutting out the cold. My hands find his face and he winces. The pain brings him back and his eyes are suddenly ablaze. He’s afraid.

  “Talia,” he breathes and takes my hand off his face.

  “What happened to you? Who did this?” I ask, my own fear turning to anger as I think of Deacon.

  “I’m out…kind of,” he whispers like it hurts to talk.

  I move closer to him so our knees are touching, squeezing his hand in mine.

  “What? Out of what?” That’s what he was mumbling before, and I still don’t know what it means.

  He pulls his hand from mine, grabs the back of my neck and kisses me. I put my hands on his waist and pull away. I’m about to ask what the hell is going on, but I’m distracted by something warm and sticky on his side. When I take my hand away it’s wet with blood.

  “Lachlan?” I stand up so fast I get dizzy. “You’re bleeding. I’m calling an Ambulance.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me abruptly back down. He squints at my hand then at his side.

  “Just a scratch.” He laughs but it turns into a cough. I reach down and pull him to his feet. In panic mode I’m a lot stronger than I look, and I manage to get him up the stairs to my parent’s bathroom. It’s bigger than mine.

  Lachlan’s sitting on the side of the tub, surrounded by my mom’s candles and scented soaps. The sight is ridiculous. I shake my head. I have to focus and find out what happened.

  I kneel in front of him and touch his side again, pulling back with more blood on my hand. I search frantically around the room for something to stop the bleeding but all my mom’s towels are freaking white.

  “Use my shirt,” Lachlan says and my gaze is back on him. For a fraction of a second I get nervous about taking off his shirt but then I’m plunged back into panic. I grab the hem and pull it carefully over his head. He winces and coughs when he lifts his shoulder but a tiny smile forms at the corner of his mouth.

  “Didn’t think this was the way you’d get me naked, hey?”

  I press his shirt against the cut on his side. He was right. It’s not as bad as I thought. Just a scratch.

  I try to smile back at him, but I’m trembling so bad I can’t force any muscles to cooperate with me. I trail my shaking fingers lightly down a bruise on his stomach. My other hand is still pressing the bloody shirt to his side.

  “Tell me what happened, Lachlan. Please?” I plead and he wraps his arm around me, trailing his own shaking fingers down my spine. I shiver and lean into him so my forehead rests on his bare chest.

  “I wanted out. Apparently that’s not going to happen yet. Apparently I have really shitty timing.” He laughs, but it makes him cough again and my forehead bounces against his smooth skin with each spasm. I pull back to look at him. He’s serious.

  “So they beat the shit out of you?” My voice is high and uneven. “And what does that have to do with timing?”

  “It’s a warning, I guess. It’s no big deal, really.”

  I practically jump to my feet. “No big deal? You could have a concussion. You could have broken ribs. They could have killed you.”

  I’m yelling at him, but my voice gets softer as he runs his hand up my leg and over my butt until his fingers slide under my tank top and grip my hip. I’m stunned silent, mostly because it feels so good. Now is not the time for good feelings. He pulls me close and presses his lips to my stomach over the material first then slides it up with his finger and kisses my bare skin.

  I forget what I was talking about.

  I tangle both my hands in his hair and he leans his cheek against my skin. I stand still and run my hands through his hair while he leans on me.

  “If I didn’t know any better, Hat Girl, I’d say you’ve fallen for me.” He chuckles and my heart starts whizzing around in my chest.

  I have, but I don’t say anything. I also broke up with him less than a week ago.

  His head angles up to catch my eyes, and he rests his chin just above the waistband of my sweats.

  “Thank you.” He leans back and lowers himself into the tub, and I frown. My heart’s still whirring, and I can’t stop my eyes from looking at every inch of him. I didn’t realize how far onto his chest and back his tattoos went. I can see the scars too. I see them under the colors permanently emblazoned on his skin.

  “For what?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the cold porcelain.

  “For everything,” he takes my hand and plays with each one of my fingers separately.

  I climb into the tub, straddling his hips and lowering myself carefully so I don’t hurt him. He pulls me close and buries his head in my hair. I can feel his breath on my neck, and I’m consumed by such an intense urge that I gasp without realizing it. I breathe hard, and he pulls away to scan my face with his memorizing stare. I have no idea where I get the nerve from, not to mention totally inappropriate time and place, but I reach down and pull the tank top I’m wearing over my head.

  Lachlan leans back. He’s shocked. His eyes are wide but he puts his hand on my stomach.

  “Talia,” he starts, his eyes scanning me in a way that makes me feel beautiful, in a way that makes me feel like I’m perfect.

  I shush him.

  “I want you,” I whisper and I do. I want him with every ounce of who I am. My skin aches to have him touch it. My eyes want to take him in, scars and tattoos and broken bones. My hands want to know what every part of him feels like. I’m consumed by him, and while I’m scared and unsure and I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, right now, in this second, he’s all that matters. He ne
eds to know. I could have lost him. He needs to know what he does to me.

  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, setting it on the side of the tub.

  “Are you sure?” he asks.

  “Only if you have protection.” I’m shocked I don’t blush.

  He looks at his wallet, and I flip it open pulling out the small square package. I turn it over in my fingers and set it down on the edge of the tub.

  “I’m sure.”

  He sits up and my arms wrap around his neck. His shaking hands touch my sides, tentatively. The rough plaster of the cast scratches on my bare skin. He runs his thumb over the underwire of my bra then slides his good hand up, in between my breasts, and cups my neck in his hand. I lean down and take his bottom lip into my mouth, biting down lightly.

  He pulls away sharply and glances toward the door.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I want to do this right.” He takes and deep breath and starts to lift his body out of the tub. It forces me to have to get out too.

  I try to help him but he won’t let me so I stand still in the middle of the room, not really sure what to do. There’s a bruise starting to form on his ribs just beneath a tattoo on his shoulder blade of shredded skin with fan blades under it. There are flames devouring the blades as they spin scattering ash and embers across to the other shoulder. The blades look real. Like they’re really moving. I wonder why a ceiling fan?

  I reach out and run my hand along it. I can’t stop myself.

  He spins to face me, swiping the condom off the ledge of the tub and tucking it into his back pocket. The action makes me jump. This is really going to happen.

  “They’re so beautiful.” I run my hand down his arm.

  “You’re beautiful.” His gaze is intense. I feel like he’s trying to memorize me.

  His hand is in my hair. He pulls me close and I have to stand on my toes to kiss him.

  The feeling that overtakes me is like a panic attack. Quick breath. Pounding heart. Spinning thoughts. But it’s good. It’s all so good.

  This is going to happen. I want this to happen.

  He trails his finger down my spine and I bite harder on his lip in response.

  He flicks the clasp of my bra. The straps slide off my shoulders and my hands instinctually go to hold the cups in place.

  Okay, now I’m not so sure. Everything is racing and I don’t know how to stop it. Lachlan cups the back of my neck again and pulls back to meet my wide stare. He touches his nose to mine.

  “You okay?” he whispers.

  I take a couple deep breaths but it doesn’t stop the blood from crashing through my veins.

  “We can stop,” he continues, kissing my nose but never taking his eyes off me. “We can stop at anytime, Talia.”

  I shake my head and take my hands from my chest. My bra falls to the floor. I should feel exposed. But for some reason I feel braver. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me like there is nothing else in the room. Maybe it’s the way he mutters “holy fuck” under his breath when I hook my fingers into the waist of his jeans and pull him toward me. Maybe it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. All I know is that I’m ready. For him. For this. I’ve never been more sure of anything. It’s a strange feeling. Confidence.

  Lachlan’s guiding me backwards, my arms are around his neck, and my feet barely touch the ground. I run into something soft and look behind me.

  “My parents bed?”

  He kisses me.

  “Right now, I don’t really care who’s bed it is. I just care about you. Right now. Here with me. Nothing else matters.”

  He uses his body to press me back onto the soft mattress and slides his hand down my stomach toward my sweats.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Lachlan

  I have no idea what time it is. Late. I’m sitting on the couch with her head in my lap, making circles on her shoulder with my finger. The movie is over but she’s still sleeping and I don’t have the heart to move her. She’s drooled on my jeans and I smile knowing she’ll be embarrassed when she wakes up, completely forgetting that I just saw her totally naked and had her tongue as well as many other parts of her in my mouth.

  She rolls over and wraps her arms around my waist, making a faint humming noise. I wince and suck air through my teeth. Her eyes shoot open and she sits up.

  “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes are wide, but unfocused like she is still kind of asleep and her hair is tangled on the one side. I take her shoulder and gently pull her back down.

  “It’s fine.” It’s so easy to forget with her. Forget all the things in my life that have brought me to this point. All the mistakes I’ve made, the disappointment I’ve been to those I care about the most. Now I’ve added her to that list.

  It’s not fair to her.

  I want to forget, but first I have to let her in.

  She’s on her back, taking me in with those blue eyes. I rest my hand on her stomach, and she laces her fingers with mine. I used to think holding hands was cheesy and needy but I’m not sure anymore.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asks and I smile. How girly.

  I look at my cast and wiggle my fingers. I sigh.

  It’s time. It has to be. No one else will understand like her. I know that now.

  “These,” I stutter and have to take a breath. I stick out my arm. She quickly sits up and runs her fingers along my tattoos.

  “These scars. They aren’t all from my dad.”

  I said it. A tiny fraction of the weight that crushed my chest lifts. It’s like opening a window on a hot day. Just a little breeze. Just a little comfort.

  “Oh?” Talia wasn’t expecting that.

  “After a while, the pain became a way to cope. If I focused on the physical pain, the rest would go away. The numbness would fade. I started burning myself the way he burned me.”

  Talia’s eyes get wide and I look away. I can’t bear to see her judge me. Like I judge myself.

  “It made me feel alive. The pain would flood me with feeling. I had shut down. When I wanted to stop, I couldn’t. When I cut my wrist, I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I was just trying to make the pain go away. Even if just for a little while. I was fourteen. It was before the drugs, before this…” I gesture widely meaning the drop and the beating and all the shit I’ve gotten myself into.

  I’m silent for a long time, only the sound of my thundering heart in my ears. I feel a little better now, but I still can’t look at Talia. I’m still afraid of her reaction. I half expect her to kick me out.

  She doesn’t. She rubs my arm. That’s all. But it makes all the difference in the world. The touch doesn’t feel condescending. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels like Talia.

  When I get the courage to face her, her eyes are soft. She looks concerned, but she doesn’t pity me.

  I don’t know why I thought she would run screaming. I don’t know why I thought the world would implode if I ever let those words escape me.

  Talia climbs onto me and rests her head on my chest. I wrap my arms around her shoulders. She’ll realize one day how bad I am for her, but for now I am going to take any touch from her I can get. She sighs.

  “My parents didn’t know how to deal with my attacks. They put me on medication when I was nine,” she says and looks up at me. I feel her breath on my face.

  “I know it’s hard to believe people when they say they know how you feel, and I don’t really know how you feel. But, I know the numbness. I know what it’s like to feel nothing and everything at the same time. I also know what it’s like to finally find someone who believes in you.”

  “Gram,” I whisper and Talia squeezes my hand.

  “You love her.” It’s a statement. It’s obvious. Every good thing in my life is because of Gram.

  “More than anything.”

  Talia sits back. She won’t meet my eyes. “But I meant me. That I believe in you.”

  Her words are bar
ely a whisper, but they mean everything. I’m not sure I believe it yet, but God do I want to. I pull her closer to me. I kiss her. It makes me happy and I smile against her lips. She pulls away.

  “What?”

  “So are we still broken-up?” I laugh. What a stupid word. Broken-up. Talia and I have been broken since the beginning, since before each other.

  Her cheeks turn bright red and her chin trembles, just like the first time I kissed her. I pull her back into me before she implodes.

  When she finally pulls away I stand. I am going to be really stiff but I don’t think anything is broken, and I remember where and who I am, so no concussion. She stands still by the couch and watches me. The air is thickening. I can see her thinking. Her eyes move back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match.

  “Well, I suppose I should get home.” I hook my thumb into my back pocket. My casted hand hangs at my side. I suddenly feel awkward.

  Talia shifts her eyes and nods her head. I turn to walk to the entrance assuming she’ll follow me.

  “Stay,” she says abruptly and I spin to face her. She looks down again.

  “Stay?” Now I’m nervous. I clear my throat. I’ve never stayed before.

  “Stay,” she says again, this time her eyes are burning into me. She’s uncertain, but so am I. She grips her elbows across her stomach as if protecting herself if I say no.

  “Your parents?”

  “Not home until Monday.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nods and walks over to me, taking my hand. My heart jumps.

  Oh fuck.

  I love this girl.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Talia

  I smile wide as Lachlan sleeps next to me. I’ve never had anyone sleep in my bed with me except Janna. Even then I’d end up sleeping on the floor because I’d wake up and have panic attacks or night terrors and flail until I hurt her. This morning I feel calm. It feels comfortable to have him with me. I didn’t dream at all.

  Nan would be proud.

  I sit straight up in bed.

  Nan.

  “Shit!” I yell and hit the comforter with my fists. My eyes well with tears.