Take My Hand (24 page)

Emily

Lying
in bed pretending
to be asleep this afternoon, I was adamant all these insane doubts I was having
were the result of being over tired and over emotional. That’s why I decided I
was going to forget all about them.

So, why was I now following Dexter like some kind of creepy stalker lady
down streets I’d never been before and most definitely wouldn’t recognise again
if I got lost, when it was getting dark? Why was I hiding behind corners like
some dodgy detective when I was absolutely crapping my pants about getting
lost, raped, murdered… or caught by Dexter? And why oh
why
couldn’t I just summon the courage to ask him outright who the
bloody hell he’s been talking to?

When I rounded what must be the fifteenth corner I was grateful that
it’d become clear Dexter was walking to his secret destination – because
God knows what I’d have done if he’d jumped in a taxi… probably gone back to
the hotel and cried like an idiot. I felt a light drizzle dampening the roots
of my hair and when I looked up I saw Dexter pulling the hood of his tan
leather jacket up over his head. Unfortunately I was too preoccupied being
Crazy Jealous Stalker Girl to remember to bring a jacket
 
- I wasn’t even wearing long sleeves - so
I saw some serious drenching in my foreseeable future.

I wasn’t wrong. By the time Dexter slowed to a halt outside a small
house with a little white porch and a tiny square of overgrown grass, nestled
in a long row of similar little houses, I was soaked straight through to my
knickers. I waited on the other side of the street, a couple of houses down,
while I watched him. He appeared to try the handle at first but after giving it
a few tugs and realising it was locked, he rapped his knuckles against the
splintered wood instead.

Shortly after, the door peeled open and a woman opened her arms wide for
Dexter to fall into – which he did. Willingly.
Eagerly.
It was in that moment I couldn’t feel my heart beating
anymore. It was too dark to see what she looked like, especially from this far
away, but I knew it was a woman because her hair fell in waves past her
shoulders and she was wearing a long, flowing skirt. Also, Dexter wouldn’t hug
a man like that…

I felt my lip begin to wobble and I wiped the wet off my face with my
hands, though I couldn’t tell if I was ridding my cheeks of tears or rainwater.
Standing there in the freezing rain I felt alone, scared, and ridiculously
naïve. It was almost pitch black now. I had no idea where I was or what I was
going to do next (seems I forgot to plan that part) and all I wanted was for
Dexter to take his arms off that woman and come and put them around me.

When the door closed behind them I was all on my own – literally.
I was lost in a humongous country I’d never been to before and I couldn’t text
or call anyone for help because all but one of my contacts were thousands of
miles away. For a moment I imagined how this conversation with Rachel would go
if I could’ve actually phoned her to come and fetch me. There was no doubt she
would tell me to go and knock hell of the door I couldn’t stop staring at
before doing the same to the woman who answered it. No doubt then she’d advise
me to go and sleep with someone else to get over it…

Seconds later, after gathering my hair into a bunch and wringing out the
excess water, I found myself walking slowly across the road. I was heading for
that
door. But of course I wasn’t
planning to beat it down or even play fisticuffs with the woman slobbering all
over my boyfriend – I would never be plucky enough to do that no matter
how much I
wanted
to. No, all I
planned to do was ask to speak to Dexter and get him to point me in the right
direction back to the hotel. I wouldn’t argue with him, or make him feel
guilty, or do anything which would cause a scene. I just wanted to go to bed
and lie awake until it was time to arrange a flight home in the morning.

I had to fight hard not to be sick when I tapped lightly on the brown
door. Then I think I actually had to swallow a lump of it back down when the
door started to creak open. Too soon I was face to face with a woman who had to
have been in her early forties at least. She had long mousy-brown hair with a
few dashes of grey streaked around her face and was wearing a tie-dye vest-top
and skirt ensemble that looked like it’d been stolen from the sixties.

The woman smiled warmly at me as she patiently waited for my explanation
as to why I was standing on her porch. Confusion rendered me speechless
however. This was either a different woman or I had made a terrible mistake. I
know Dexter has been known to ‘enjoy a riper fruit or two’ according to Jared
but this woman looked
too
old. And
too… sweet. But hey, what do I know? I’m not a horny twenty-four year old
man-whore with the standards of a threadworm.

“Can I help you?” she asked when it became obvious I was mentally
incompetent.

“Is…um…Dexter here?” I stammered nervously. Her mouth dropped open ever
so slightly and she stared at me with what looked like recognition in her warm,
caramel eyes.

“
Emily?
” Okay so now I really
was speechless. Nodding slowly, I felt my eyebrows knit together in bewilderment.

“Oh my God I’m so pleased to finally meet you!” she squealed before
throwing her skinny arms around me like she did Dexter and squeezing me so
tightly I struggled to breath as I just stood there paralysed with a thousand
different thoughts and emotions. “Dear God you’re freezing,” she fussed,
releasing me from her grasp and rubbing her hands over my forearms as she
guided me inside.

As you know I’m not one for swearing, but what the actual fuck was going
on here?

“What are you doing here? Does Dexter know you’re here? He’ll be so
happy to see you.” I tried to squeeze in a response but she wouldn’t stop
talking. “Would you like a drink? Of course you’d like a drink - you’re
freezing. You need something warm. Coffee? Hot cocoa? Milk? And I must find you
something to change into, you’ll catch your death in those clothes.”

“Um… where is he? Dexter?” I eventually got the opportunity to ask.

“Oh of course. Listen to me going on with myself. He’s upstairs with his
mom.”

His mum?

His
dead
mum?

“His mum?”

“Yes,” she said solemnly – heartbreak dripping from her voice. “They
think it’ll only be a few days now. Go on up. I’m sure Dex really needs you
right now. Second door on the right.”

“I…um… thank you.” I nodded weakly and turned towards the stairs. My
heart hammered against the walls of my aching chest as I tentatively made my
way up each stair, growing one step closer to God knows what. Dexter told me
his mum was dead. I remember the conversation so vividly. ‘My parents are dead’
he said. Why would he lie about something like that? As I paused for air which
I couldn’t seem to get enough of outside the second door on the right, I didn’t
know whether to be angry, concerned or utterly distraught by what might be
waiting for me on the other side.

Anxiously, I pushed the door open just a touch and peered through the
small gap. A tiny woman with ashen skin and dark-blonde hair scattered in
disarray across the pillows was tucked under the blankets of the double bed.
Her eyes were open but they seemed unfocused, staring unseeingly at a blank
spot on the opposite wall. Dexter was propped up against the headboard next to
her on the bed. He was staring at her with the most desolate expression
distorting his beautiful face. I pressed my hand against the door, ready to
open it fully… but then stopped when the most magical sound ever to grace my
ears emerged from Dexter’s throat.

He was singing to her.

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,


Smiles await you when you
rise.


Sleep,


Pretty baby,


Do not cry,


And I will sing a
lullaby.



Cares you know not,


Therefore sleep,


While over you a watch I'll
keep.


Sleep,


Pretty darling,


Do not cry,


And I will sing a lullaby

I didn’t realise I was crying until I startled myself
by snorting back the tears clogging my throat. Dexter’s eyes immediately darted
in my direction and he dived from the bed, landing in front of me so fast it
was like he held supernatural powers.

“What are you doing here?” he growled. “You shouldn’t
be here.”

I parted my lips to speak but all that came out was a
croak. He was angry with me. If it wasn’t clear by his tone then it was made
perfectly apparent the tension in his rigid body and the veins bulging in his
neck. The frail woman was mumbling loudly in the background but whatever she
was trying to express was unintelligible.

“I’ve gotta get outta here,” Dexter seethed, barging
past me and heading straight for the stairs.

“Dexter wait!” I called after him, unsuccessfully
trying to grab hold of his arm as he passed. “Dexter please! I’m sorry!” For
what, I didn’t know.

“Emily?” the overly-friendly woman asked in a hurry as
she appeared at the bottom of the stairs, sounding as confused as I felt when
Dexter bolted from the house. “She’s not…” she added quietly – her hand
hovering over her mouth while she waited for me to tell her the lady upstairs
was dead.

“No no,” I flapped. “She’s…” I didn’t know what she
was. I didn’t know who she was or what was wrong with her. “She’s
okay,
” I answered ambiguously as I made
my way down the stairs in a daze. “I-I…I don’t know what happened. I don’t know
what I’ve done wrong.” I stared down at my fingers winding themselves together
so harshly my knuckles turned white. It wasn’t until a set of warm hands
overlapped mine I noticed Mrs Friendly was so near.

“Emily,” she said my name cautiously. “What do you
know about Dexter and his mom?”

“He told me his parents were dead. I-I don’t
understand any of this,” I admitted, still staring down at my hands. “I didn’t
think he had
any
family.”

“Oh, Dexter,” she mumbled under her breath while
rolling her eyes. Sighing deeply, she tightened her grip around my hand and
started pulling me towards another room.

“Come on, honey. I think we need to talk.”

Dexter

No
. No. No.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Fuck, it was never supposed to
happen at all. I was never supposed to let anyone get this close. I was never
supposed to let someone love me just so I could ruin them when they discover
what a monster I am.
 

I’ve lost her. This was it. This was where Emily would discover what I’d
done and she would run away from me as fast as her short legs would carry her. She
probably knew by now. Aunt Sarah probably filled her in the second I left the
house. Maybe she was already gone. Maybe if I went back to the house right now
there would be no sign of her. She was probably already booking her flight
home.

As I ran I started to wonder what the fuck she was even doing there? How
did she find me? Had Aunt Sarah gotten hold of her somehow? I don’t suppose it
matters. All that mattered now was that I’d lost her, and I was so fucking
angry with myself for ever believing I deserved her.

I found myself in a bar before I even knew where I was heading. Didn’t
even hesitate to walk in and order myself a straight Jack. What was the fucking
point in trying anymore? I was losing everything. Everyone I loved was going to
be gone soon. Well, I guess Aunt Sarah would still be around but let’s face it
even she must have a limit. I took her sister away from her… her fiancé… her
life. Without my mom here giving her a reason to get up every morning, there’s
only so much of my shit she’s gonna be able to deal with before she fucks off
too.

Slamming my empty glass on the glossy black surface, I ordered another.
Like the first I downed it in one, wincing as the harsh liquid burned the back
of my throat. I needed more. I could still think straight. So I got another.

Five shots in and I welcomed the blissful numbness seeping into my
brain. A girl with more makeup than clothes approached me as I poured the sixth
eagerly into my mouth, but one sharp glare in her direction soon sent her
packing. Then, inappropriately, I heard myself laughing. You see, when I turned
that girl away I realised I’d had sex for the last time in my life. Emily was
gone, but even so I just knew I’d never be able to fuck anyone else. I might
have betrayed her in the most catastrophic of ways but I would never cheat on
her – whether she was mine or not.

See? It’s funny right? That I’m gonna die a lonely old hermit? Fucking
hilarious.

“Well, well, well…” I turned my head at the familiar voice and saw a
figure from the past I’d tried so hard to forget standing before me. “Long time
no see, Michaels.” It was Jaxon – an old…
friend
of mine. By friend, I mean one of my best snorting buddies.

“Jax,” I acknowledged with a curt nod.

“You back here for your mom?” he asked. He probably knew the deal with
her. He only lives a minute’s walk away from my mom and Aunt Sarah and word gets
around. I nodded again. “Real sorry about that, man. She was a great woman back
in the day ‘n’ all.”

“She still is,” I hissed. “She’s not dead yet.”

“Sure, sure. Sorry, man,” he mumbled, looking away from me. “So, you
wanna, um…” Jaxon removed his wallet from his back pocket and nodded his head
towards the tip of the small transparent baggie poking out between the bills. “For
old time’s sake?”

Fuck me, I’d never wanted to say yes to anything as badly in my life.
The alcohol was doing its job – freeing me… removing my inhibitions. And
so I knew it that moment there was only
one
thing that could make me feel even better…

“Nah,” I said rather unconvincingly. “I don’t do that shit anymore.” But
boy did I want to…

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “Another drink then?”

“Sounds good to me. Same again.”

And so I spent the rest of the night I prayed would never happen,
drinking myself into a pit of unresponsiveness. By the end of it… the
excruciating pain detonating inside my chest, was just a dull, throbbing ache.

I’ve lost her.

I’ve lost both of them.