Page 15 of The Ones We Fight For

“Right, sorry. Downstairs.” He motioned for her to follow.

The kitchen was immaculate. The hood vent over the massive stove was something straight out of Better Homes & Gardens. The cabinets were dark blue, and the backsplash was a light gray stone color that went perfectly with the butcher block countertops and gold accents. The kitchen was sexier than Walker… almost. Talia did want to marry it and put several buns in its double oven, though.

Stepping on a lever near the bottom of the large island in the middle of the kitchen, Walker cleared his throat, pointing to the drawer on a slider that popped out to reveal the trash can. Talia quickly disposed of the paper towels and moved over to the sink to wash her hands. There was no point in waiting for Walker to show her to the bathroom. He seemed to be perfectly content with making her feel as unwelcome as possible.

The only sound in the room was the faucet as Talia scrubbed her hands clean. It made her skin crawl to know that Walker was there in the room but not saying anything. Drying her wet hands on a nearby towel, she turned back to face him, not entirely sure where he was standing. Sitting on one of the barstools, elbows on the countertop and massaging his temples, Walker studied her with a watchful eye, as if she was going to grab the salt and pepper shakers and make a break for it. For a second, she wanted to do just that. If he was going to look at her like a social pariah regardless, she might as well get some kitchen accessories out of it. In the end, she decided against it when she took in the tired shadows under his eyes and the way his hunched shoulders made him look weak and spent. Walker looked like hell. At least, as much as a person with fallen-angel features could look like hell.

“So.” Talia took a seat next to him, pretending his gaze didn’t make nerves shoot up her spine. “Give me your number.”

Walker’s eyebrows jumped, his mouth parting in surprise as his hands dropped away from his temples.

“Wh-what? Why?”

“Because I want to check on Piper’s well-being in the morning. Her boyfriend just broke up with her, and I—”

“Boyfriend? I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend. Is it that guy, Harden? ‘Cause that kid is an asshole and I told her as much.” One of Walker’s hands balled up into a fist on the countertop as he slid his phone over to her with his other. “Put in your number. I will text you.”

“She didn’t tell me his name, but my best guess is ‘yes’ considering he was supposed to be the DD and ended up drinking to the point where Piper had to throw his keys into a blackberry bush to keep him from driving. He definitely sounds like an asshole.”

Talia set the phone back on the island. Both of Walker’s hands were balled into fists now, knuckles turning white as he stewed, barely giving his phone a second glance. “I don’t think she still wants to date him after all that, if it helps.” Talia bit her lip, unsure if she should be offering him any placative words. The torment etched into the lines of his face made her want to impulsively rub away the creases with her thumbs.

“It doesn’t,” he replied with a sigh. “So, you’ve done the whole drinking till you throw up thing before, huh?”

There it is. That’s why you don’t like him.

“I don’t drink.” Talia’s tone turned ice cold. She was not her father, and at this point, she was fed up with Walker’s propensity to behave like she was.

“I have once.” Walker shrugged.

It wasn’t at all what she expected his response to be, and she was somewhat alarmed by his openness. “It was the first and only time I’ve ever had alcohol. I drank until I blacked out and woke up in my own vomit. Cole didn’t drink either. Our dad is an alcoholic, and I think he passed that lovely little gift on to us… or just me now, I guess.”

“I would say ‘same,’ but clearly you already know that,” Talia mumbled. “Alcohol ruins people.”

“People ruin people,” Walker corrected.

Talia could tell what he meant without having to dig any further. Her father had ruined Walker’s life and the lives of five kids who now didn’t have a mother or father. But she didn’t know her dad from Adam. She wasn’t even sad to hear that he was dead, other than the way he had died. Yet, Walker still seemed hell-bent on blaming her for it. She could understand the desire to put blame on someone, anyone, just to make the pain go away, but it didn’t mean she deserved it. She’d already put enough blame on herself recently for things she couldn’t control. Logically, she knew she wasn’t in charge of her body’s incapability to bear children, but her self-deprecative brain said otherwise. If she was going to hate herself for something, it was going to be that, not her father’s mistakes.

“I’m going to go.” Talia stood up from her seat and stalked toward the exit.

“I do know that I’m failing, ya know. Trust me, I’m aware.” Walker shot a miserable look over his shoulder at her, and she halted, feet frozen near the door.

People ruin people. Maybe Walker hated himself just as much as he hated her.

“I’m sure you’re doing the best you can do,” Talia murmured.

“It’s not good enough.” Walker got up from his stool and made his way past her toward the door, ripping it open for her. “Piper told me she was at a friend's house tonight, and I had absolutely no idea where she really was. Thank you for picking her up. If she threw up in your car, I will pay for it to be cleaned. I’ll text you in the morning to let you know she’s okay.”

“Walker, I…” Talia stepped outside, hesitating to leave him in his depressive state. “I’m sure she was just upset. That’s not a reflection on you.”

“Piper gets straight A’s in school and is normally a walking government ad telling people to say no to drugs. Now she’s out getting wasted at parties with boys who obviously don’t treat her with any kind of respect, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t believe you. Good night, Talia.”

Walker waved stiffly, and Talia swallowed, giving him a microscopic nod of her head, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. She couldn’t even convince herself that she wasn’t the cause of her own misfortune.

“Good night.”

Neshama sheli, you must learn to be the picture of kindness and grace, her mother’s voice rang in her ears, again and again.

Chapter 5

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