Page 39 of The Ones We Fight For

“It’s a battle of rebellion vs. conformity.”

“Sounds like you.” Talia grinned.

“Oh, I’m definitely a mental patient,” he deadpanned. Breaking into a wide smile, he pointed to the top of his shoulder and the end of the tattoo, which revealed a cliff’s edge with a small house atop it. “This and the rest of the calligraphy are from Wuthering Heights. Catherine was my first fictional girlfriend.”

“That’s depressing, she dies!”

“But she was stubborn enough to haunt Heathcliff after she died. That’s true love.”

Talia let her palms fall to the floor and pressed down, straightening her spine to prepare for an argument. “No, that’s a tragedy.”

“Love is a tragedy. Eventually, everyone you ever love will die.”

“So, it’s not worth it?”

“I never said that. Why do you think I like the idea of people haunting others from the grave? My brother and Paisley haunt me. If I can’t have them, then I’ll take their ghosts.” He brushed the hem of his sleeve back down and gave a sad jerk of his shoulders.

“My mom haunts me,” Talia whispered. “Sometimes one of my thoughts will feel like she’s talking to me.”

“What does she say?”

“She keeps telling me to be nice to you.”

“I see you’re not taking her advice to heart, then?” Walker cocked an eyebrow and flinched away from her, already expecting a hit to his shoulder.

“What about the rest? The burning trees?” Talia dragged one finger down to the underside of his veiny forearm.

“It’s a metaphor for pain and suffering. Forest fires, althoughthey seem very destructive, can sometimes help a forest grow, clearing the brush and producing healthier trees. I regret getting that one now. I can’t see how this pain and suffering will ever make me stronger. It must be the kind that destroys everything in its wake. Houses. Families… lives." His eyes were heavy with the kind of sadness that was only learned or experienced firsthand. She wanted to piece together all the broken pieces of his heart just so he would smile again.

“Do you hear that?” Talia sat up straighter on her knees and tilted her head to listen. There was nothing to listen to, but she had an idea and was going to run with it. Anything to distract him.

“Hear what?” Walker looked around her living room on high alert.

“Oh, really? He said that?” Talia mimicked talking to someone beside her and watched Walker stare at her in her periphery, at the spot beside her, and back at her again, the puzzled expression never leaving his face. “Mm-hmm, yeah, I figured that much.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Walker leaned forward warily to look in the space beside her.

“Shh, don’t interrupt.” She waved a hand in his direction to get him to stop talking and proceeded to speak to the open air beside her. “He didn’t!” She gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth in mock surprise. “That is so gross!”

“Okay, do you need to go to a mental hospital?” Walker seemed genuinely concerned for her well-being, which only made Talia want to burst into laughter.

“I’m talking to your brother and sister-in-law.” Talia watched as Walker’s demeanor gained levity. Mission accomplished.

“And what are they saying?” He played along.

“Well, Paisley said you think I’m pretty, and Cole is telling me about the time you shit yourself at an amusement park.”

“Okay, how the hell do you know about that?” Walker gaped.

“I just told you!” She gestured to her invisible ghost friends and then the realization hit him.

“Piper told you, didn’t she? I swear I’m going to murder your daughter, Cole.” Walker glared exaggeratedly at the space beside Talia.

“Actually, you can blame Carter for this one and Colin for giving me every graphic detail about the combinations of food you ate that could have caused your bowels such stress.” She gave a full-bodied laugh and fell back to sit on her butt. He shook his head calmly, his cheeks tinged with pink, and scooted to sit next to her.

“And which one of them told you I think you’re pretty?” Walker’s voice dropped into a husky murmur.

“I look like I fought Conor McGregor. That was just a joke.”

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