“Please, Dexter…” I begged him, too scared to get any closer to him.
“Please what? Please stop being a worthless piece of shit?” He screwed the cap off the whiskey and downed a sizeable gulp. “Please stop fucking up everything and everyone who’s ever meant anything to me?” He took another gulp. “Please stop scaring you?” And another. “Well I can’t, Emily! Because this is who I am!” he yelled at me and I shrank back a few steps when I saw the veins in his neck bulging under the pressure of his words.
“I’m a fucking monster!” he blared, throwing the whiskey across the room and making it smash against the coffee table.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Stop shutting me out.” He laughed sardonically.
“How can I shut you out when I never let you fucking in?”
“J-just talk to me, Dexter,” I stuttered nervously. “I-I know this isn’t you.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT ME!” he roared. “I destroy people! I ruin everything! And if you don’t get the fuck out of my life right now I’ll destroy you too!”
He picked up a mug from the counter and threw that too. Then he reached for a plate and did the same. I gasped and dodged and screamed at him to stop but it was like he couldn’t even see me. Determined in his quest, he repeated the process with all the crockery in his immediate vicinity and then stormed over to the other side of the room and started kicking the furniture – never relenting until everything in the room was either broken or lying on its side.
Feeling utterly out of my depth and more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life I reached into my pocket for my phone and started to scroll through my phonebook until I stopped on Jared. Then, just before I hit call, Dexter collapsed to the floor. Without hesitation I rushed to his side and crouched down beside him. His body was crumpled into itself and he had his head hidden between his knees, rocking back and forth and tearing at his hair with his trembling fingers.
“Help me, Emily. Please God somebody fucking help me,” he cried – his entire body starting to shudder. Instinctive I wrapped my body around his and rocked back and forth with him.
“I don’t know how,” I cried with him. “Tell me what to do.” He couldn’t answer me as the violent sobs wracked through his body. Not knowing what else to do, I just held him. I swayed with him. I shushed him. I cried with him.
After an hour or so his rigid body started to thaw. He was growing weaker by the minute until eventually we had both rolled down until we were lying on the bare floor. I gently, cautiously tilted his head until he was facing me and watched as his blinks became less frequent and eventually they stopped opening all together. Unable to stop myself once he was asleep I pushed aside the floppy fringe obscuring his eyes and leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose.
“It’s getting nearer, doll,” he murmured unconsciously. “I’m losing her,” were the last three words I heard from him that night.
Chapter Fifteen
Dexter
I was almost surprised when I opened my eyes and discovered I wasn’t in fact lying under a giant fucking truck with my head caved in. I was on my living room floor with a feather pillow tucked under my throbbing head and a blanket draped over my aching body. The rancid stench of me wafted up my nose making me want to hurl when I rose tentatively from the floor.
Needing to pee, I made my way to the bathroom. Then I almost shit my pants when the squeal of a naked woman trying to cover herself up with a hand towel pierced my very delicate eardrums.
“Get out!” Emily blared. It was only then I was snapped back into consciousness and realized I was just staring at her like an utter fucking pervert.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, slamming the door behind me.
Fuck.
Emily.
Why was Emily naked in my apartment?
I swore in that moment if I found out I’d had sex with her I would punch myself in the balls repeatedly until there was no conceivable chance I’d ever be able to father children. Not Emily. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this to her. Then again, there was no way she wouldn’t have been able to tell I’d been drinking last night, and I just couldn’t believe she would’ve let me go anywhere near her in the state I was in. She respected herself too much for that. At least… I hoped she did.
The bathroom door opened a few minutes later but I was too ashamed of myself to turn around and face her.
“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you. I just needed a shower and I didn’t think you’d mind.” What the fuck? I spun around instantly.
“You’re sorry? Are you fucking kidding me? Doll, don’t you ever feel the need to apologize to me. Especially after last night.” I ran my tense fingers through my damp hair which was dripping with sweat and maybe even vomit. Then I just stared at her – standing small and timid in some jeans and a white shirt with her damp flame-red hair spiraling down her back – and I had never despised myself so much in my life. “I’m such a fucking idiot,” I muttered under my breath.
“You’re not an idiot, Dex,” she said softly as she made her way towards me. I couldn’t move - my feet froze to the floor. I didn’t know whether to back away or wrap my arms around her and hold her tighter than I’d ever held anyone before. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too far last night,” she said, curling her fingers over my forearm. Why, what did she do? “I only realized once you were asleep that I don’t have the right to ask you to talk to me. We don’t know each other well enough for me to expect that of you.” She couldn’t be more wrong. She knows me better than anyone. “But I want you to know that you can talk to me, and that I will never judge you.”
This wasn’t helping with the feelings of self-loathing. This girl was impossibly perfect – too perfect to be dragged down by the likes of me.
“Why you still here, doll?” I asked dejectedly – but genuinely curious.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asked in a hurt tone.
“No,” I murmured, shaking my head. “No I don’t. It’s just… well, people don’t usually stick around,” I admitted, shrugging sorrowfully.
“Well that’s ‘cause most people are arseholes. And I like to think I’m not an arsehole,” she replied with a shy smile. She is most definitely not an asshole by any stretch of the imagination. She’s fucking amazing.
“Still, I need you to know you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to try and save my fucked-up ass. The minute you need to run, I’ll be the first to hold the door open for you,” I told her honestly - even though just the thought of that happening sent painful shivers down my aching spine.
“You should shower,” she told me, changing the subject to something less intense. “You sort of stink.”
“There ain’t no ‘sort of’ about it. I think my nose would rather live up a tramp’s ass than be anywhere near my body right now.” She let out the adorable giggle I’d grown to love so much and stepped aside for me to walk past. I headed straight for the bathroom and paused by the doorjamb when she called after me.
“If you’re going to bring sluts home with you, you could at least make sure they weren’t mingers,” she tried to tease but I heard a hint of hurt filtering into her words.
Fuck.
**********
Emily was still with me when evening rolled around. True to her word, she didn’t ask what brought on my latest relapse, and I didn’t offer. Instead we just chatted nonsense and drank lots of water.
“So you and Jared. What happened there?” I asked and hope she didn’t think it was none of my business. Of course it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop me being interested. She let out a long sigh before answering.
“It wasn’t his fault. My hoohaa is broken.” Hoohaa? “Oh crap. I can’t believe I just said that. Sorry.”
“What did I say about apologizing?” I reminded her. “But now you’ve said it, you know you have to elaborate right?”
“Ugh. There’s really nothing to say.”
“Let’s start with hoohaa?”
&nbs
p; “You know exactly what I mean. Stop trying to embarrass me.” No way. It was too much fun.
“No can do. You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed, doll,” I teased her. “So, when you say broken?” Her cheeks were burning brighter than her hair. Call me a sadist, but I was enjoying this way too much. “You’re not telling me you’ve got a dick hiding under there are you?” I said and then nodded my head towards her crotch, holding my gaze for a little too long. She rolled her eyes and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from giggling.
“If you really want to know – which by the way is just weird – I just don’t feel things down there like other girls do. I’m not a virgin in case that’s your next question, but to be honest whenever anyone’s… been… down there, they might as well have been touching my elbow.” After risking eye contact with me she threw her tiny hands over her face. “Oh God why am I even telling you this stuff!”
“Because I’m your friend,” I interjected, flashing her a wink. “For the record, I’m almost certain your ‘hoohaa’ isn’t broken, doll. It’s just not been paid the right kind of attention,” I stated confidently. I’m damn sure I could fix it for her.
Stop right there, Dex.
“Hmm, maybe. Either way you will never know because I’m not talking about this ever again with you!”
“Would it make you feel better if we spoke about my bits and pieces? ‘Cause this one time I had this huge pimple thing on it and-”
“Eww, Dex! No. That wouldn’t make me feel better. Ugh.” I knew that’d get her.
The conversation swiftly moved on to less embarrassing topics – at least on Emily’s part. Like an annoying, overly-horny teenager, I threw in inappropriate comments and innuendos whenever I got the chance. Twelve – remember?
It was just after seven when we were interrupted by Emily’s cell ringing. It was her brother calling to see where she was. As much as I thought he was a douchebag I admired how much he cared for his little sister. While they were talking it prompted me to start wondering about her family. Where she came from, what kind of upbringing she had…
“You never talk about your parents?” I said like a question when she hung up on Chris.
“Neither do you,” she flipped it back on me. I stuttered on my answer and then thankfully she saved me by continuing. “There’s not much to tell. My dad… well he’s one of these reserved types. Doesn’t really speak unless he’s spoken to kind of thing.”
“And your mom?”
“I’m pretty sure my mum hates me. She’d never let anyone other than me know that of course – gotta keep up with the Jones’.”
“That can’t be true. Why the hell would you even think that?”
“Because she thinks I killed my sister.”
“She-” I closed my mouth again. Did I hear her right? “She thinks what?”
“When I was five we were at one of her posh friend’s garden parties. I was in charge of looking after Olivia – she was two.” She squeezed her eyes closed and drew in a deep, lingering breath. I shifted closer to her and took her hand in mine, clutching it gently. “They had a pond. A really big one with frogs in it. Livvie tripped and fell in when I wasn’t looking. I heard the splash and when I turned around she was waving her arms about. I-I…”
I watched, heartbroken as a lone tear trickled desolately down Emily’s cheek. Instinctively, I brought her hand up to my mouth and grazed her knuckles with my lips.
“I thought she was playing. I didn’t understand what was happening. I could swim – I thought everyone could swim. But then she stopped waving. She stopped blinking. She stopped…moving. I jumped in after her the second I realized what was happening but… but I was too late.”
“Jesus Christ, doll.” Just then it slapped me in the face – the beach. The fear in her eyes when I threatened to lower her into the water… it wasn’t fear. It was recollection. She was re-living it all over again. I know that feeling too well and I had no choice but to envelop her in my arms and hold her tightly against my chest.
“Soon after the screams started. I was being dragged from the water and all I could hear were cries, and screams, and yelling… I don’t remember anything else after that.” There were no words in the world to follow that. So I held her tighter, resting my cheek against the top of her head. “My mum blames me.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t,” was all I could think to say.
“She does. She’s told me on more than one occasion.”
“Well that’s bullshit! You were five years old for fuck’s sake.” The mother should’ve been looking after both of them in the first place. Obviously I’d never met Emily’s mom but I already hated her. Emily just shrugged, resigning herself to what her shit excuse for a mother thought of her.
“You don’t believe her right?” I had to make sure.
“I guess not,” she said too unconvincingly for my liking. “You know I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even Rachel.”
Wow. Honored doesn’t even come into it.
“Snickers doesn’t know you had a sister?” I asked in disbelief.
“Snickers?”
Shit.
“Yeah. It’s kinda what I used to call her in my head before I knew her name and it sort of stuck. You know ‘cause she’s fuckin’ nuts?” At last – a giggle. Though I wasn’t naïve enough to think it would last long.
“Well she never uses your name either so I guess you’re even. Anyway, no. She doesn’t know. Obviously Chris does, but he’s never told anyone either as far as I know. To be honest I try to forget about it. Does that make me a bad person?”
“No, doll. It makes you a person who’s trying her hardest to live. A person who feels a shit load of guilt and is trying to get past it the only way you know how.”
“You think I’m guilty?”
“Hell no. I said you feel guilty. It’s written all over you. Even before you told me what you just did I knew there was something going on behind those big blue eyes of yours. There’s a… I don’t know, a heaviness to them – a darkness. Sometimes it’s like you’re looking at me but not seeing me – like you’re someplace else where no one’s allowed to go with you.”
I know guilt well enough to recognize it instantly when I see it. And the fucker had definitely claimed Emily – I could see it crawling out of those troubled blue eyes as she re-lived the worst day of her life.
Guilt.
It’s a form of cancer. It starts small – just a twinge deep inside your stomach. But then it multiplies. It spreads. It starts eating you alive until it’s claimed every part of you and your entire being begins the process of shutting down. It’s a selfish motherfucking disease that won’t ever rest until it’s left you alone and broken with only the pain it causes you for company.
The worst thing is, it attacks the innocent – like Emily. This girl is one of the sweetest damn creatures ever to breath in this twisted world and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve to be taken down by that malignant fucking tumor.
But then sometimes, I look into my own eyes in the mirror, and I’m reminded that there’s always an exception to every rule. Sometimes it gets it right. Sometimes… it attacks those who truly deserve it.
“Wow. Deep much?” she tried to tease, presumably in an effort to lighten the tense atmosphere weighing down on us, but there wasn’t a hint of true humor in her smile.
“Don’t feel uncomfortable when you’re with me,” I said because I knew she did and that’s why she was trying to make light of the situation. “No good can come of you keeping it all hidden inside. Believe me if you let it fester, eventually it will start controlling you.” I knew this only too well. The only difference is I deserve to feel guilty for the pain I’ve caused. “Know that you can talk to me whenever you need to. Or even if you just want to. I’ll be here for you, doll.”
Another tear bled from her eye and I caught it with my finger before it had chance to reach her flushed cheek. That was the moment everything changed. The moment my whol
e world started to spin on its axis. The moment everything I’d strived to keep locked away started battling its way to the surface, threating to explode at any moment – threatening to ruin this wonderful friendship I’d become reliant on.
While I was wiping her tear away Emily grabbed my hand and flattened my palm against her warm cheek. She closed her eyes, tilted her nose towards my hand and inhaled deeply, purposely. Her breath hitched and her body began to tremble ever so slightly – so subtle you probably wouldn’t even notice unless you were feeling it too.
Peeling her eyes open slowly she tentatively leaned into me and positioned her beautiful face so close to mine I could feel her every breath wrap around my skin like a comforter. I knew what was coming. I wanted it to come. But I couldn’t let it.
“No, doll,” I sighed, pushing her away as gently as I could yet using every ounce of strength my body held.
“Oh,” she mumbled nervously, setting her cheeks alight. She chewed on her bottom lip – the one I would’ve given anything to be able to chew on right now – and stared down at her hands which she was now knotting together on top of her knees. “Sorry, I…” she trailed off.
The rejection swamping those entrancing eyes of hers caused my heart to swell painfully, choking me. She was embarrassed – but not in the cute way I adore. She thought she’d made a fool of herself. She thought I didn’t want her.
She had no fucking idea.
I was leaning in towards her before I could even comprehend what I was doing. I took her soft face in my hands and moved in so our noses were almost touching.
“Don’t think I don’t want to kiss you, doll. Don’t think you’re not the most beautiful fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Don’t think I’m not feeling what I know you’re feeling right now… because I am,” I told her. A confused look swept over her face which melted into a sigh – almost like she thought I was pacifying her. “But I can’t kiss you. Because if I kiss you, I’ll want to fuck you. And if I fuck you, I’ll want to keep you. And that just can’t happen.”
Take My Hand Page 13
