Page 27 of The Ones We Fight For

The word “brave” was an understatement. “Selfless” was more accurate. Carter’s biological mother, Aliyah, knew from the second she found out she was pregnant that her baby wouldn’t be safe in her world. The women’s shelter Aliyah stayed at was a safe haven during the pregnancy, but it wasn’t a forever solution. A closed adoption proved to be the best option after she met Paisley, who, at the time, volunteered at the shelter on the weekends. Soon after the adoption was finalized, Aliyah skipped town to get away from Carter’s abusive biological father, who was none the wiser to her ever being pregnant. Carter would never be able to contact Aliyah because it could potentially put them both in danger, but Paisley and Cole made sure Aliyah’s name was spoken often in their home as a pivotal person in Carter’s life.

“What if I end up like him?” Carter’s eyes pierced through Walker like daggers.

“You won’t.”

“I have all this… anger that I don’t know what to do with.” Carter looked down at his feet in shame. “Like I wish Talia’s dad was alive so I could kill him. It’s not fair that he’s already dead, because I want to do it. That makes me like my father, doesn’t it?”

“Being angry about injustice doesn’t make you like him. It means you’re grieving and that you care.”

Carter stood in front of Walker, fists clenched for a few seconds before the tension released in his shoulders.

“I’d kill him myself if he was still alive,” Walker admitted. “It would not bode well for the whole guardian situation, though, so it’s better that he’s already dead.”

“I’m sorry.” Carter swallowed. “I only heard part of your conversation with everyone earlier at the house about who she was, and I… clung to it.” He averted his eyes, and Walker crossed the distance between them, setting his arm on Carter’s shoulder.

“I did the same thing when I first met her. But then she helped me track your phone when you skipped school and brought Piper back to the house when she was sloshed and was adamant about making sure that your sister was okay, and I…” Walker shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts that kept popping up. He had to cut himself off before he went too far down a path that would land him in troubled waters, pining after someone who didn’t like him that way and whom he could never be with.

“I see the way you look at her,” Carter said simply.

Walker’s knee-jerk reaction was to deny it, but Carter knew him too well. In a way, Carter was him. Lying to himself repeatedly about Talia was not working out well, but he knew he would continue to, even if it tortured him. She wasn’t an option. He couldn’t go there.

“It doesn’t matter,” Walker finally landed on an answer.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to, and will never, use my brother and your mom’s death to find someone or to get laid. Jeff Cohen left her the store in his will. The only reason she even moved here, the only reason I met her was because they died,” he said bluntly, knowing that laying it all out would be the only way Carter would understand. Carter nodded in immediate comprehension, and Walker squeezed his shoulders. “She deserves an apology, though.”

Wordlessly, Carter stepped forward, Walker trailing behind him as they made their way back to the backyard. Eight pairs of eyes lifted to watch Carter when he stepped back onto the deck, shuffling over to Talia with an apology on his face. Talia glanced behind him at Walker, worrying her lip. Walker gave her a reassuring nod, then nudged Carter’s shoulder to encourage him to start.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be blaming you for something your father did,” Carter finally croaked, his voice coming out uneven. Walker focused on Talia’s face and was surprised to find that even more sadness passed through her eyes. The urge to jump forward and pull her into his chest was so strong that his body went rigid with the need for it.

“Carter, can I tell you something?” Talia finally spoke up, her voice soft. Carter nodded silently. “It’s not to make you feel bad, it’s just so you know exactly where I’m at. When we… my mom and I, that is, when we left my dad, it was after he… hit me. The only time.”

Walker’s eyes went wide in alarm, unable to stop himself from lurching forward to take his rightful place by her side. She set her hand atop the table as an invitation. He took it without questioning it, firmly lacing his hands in hers for support. Carter slumped into the chair next to her, looking like the life had been sucked out of him, the sacrifice his biological mother made resonating more than ever before. Piper sniffed back tears on the other side of the table, and the furious face Colin wore earlier returned, this time for a different reason. Amala was unfazed, and it struck Walker then that she must have already been aware of Talia’s past.

“Don’t feel bad,” Talia said quickly, shaking her head at everyone’s reaction. “It was a long time ago. I just wanted to explain. I… he hit my mom a bunch of times before that, but I guess him hitting me was the last straw for her, and we left. The reason I’m telling you is because I want you to know that I hate him, too. My mother was everything kind and right in the world, and he put her through hell. Regardless, I want you to know that if me being in his life could have somehow stopped him from getting in that car that night, I would have done it. I would have stayed and endured everything so you could have your parents back, and I know my mom would be okay with me saying that she would have done the same. So, I am sorry. I wish I could’ve stopped him. I wish I could’ve done something to prevent this from happening.”

Too many emotions swirled around in Walker’s head, suffocating him. Anger, filling him up and pricking his fingertips with the violence he wanted to inflict on Jeff Cohen as he held Talia’s hand tighter. Sorrow, both for Talia and her mother, a deep-seated pain for the way that the world worked. Shame for ever doubting what a wonderful person she was. Everything she said, she meant. Just as he would, Talia would have endured the unimaginable so Cole and Paisley’s kids would never have to live another moment without their parents. Beyond every other emotion, affection settled into his bones. He was no longer warring with sexual desire alone. Fighting tooth and nail to deny that piece of their developing friendship was hard enough. Knowing her heart was also beautiful posed an even greater dilemma. She was the exact type of person his family needed. The kind he would have invited to family dinner more than once.

Before tonight, if Walker allowed his attraction to win out, he would have felt guilty, but he could have moved past it. His actions wouldn’t have impacted everyone, just his own conscience. Now, he’d sucked his family into Talia’s orbit. The second he crossed a line with her, things would get complicated. When, not if, he inevitably failed, because he was a garbled mess of depression and anxiety without an added relationship, his nieces and nephews would lose yet another person. And he couldn’t do that to them.

The conversation at the table took on a lighter note, but Walker was barely paying attention. He was vaguely aware of plans being made for Piper and Pearl to sleep over at Talia’s for a spa night (which Jayla promptly invited herself to). When Colin pulled out a book, Talia let him go on and on about the latest studies on wildlife in the Sahara, and she genuinely seemed interested. It was magic the way she easily held conversations with the kids. Her laugh rang in Walker’s ears like a sweet melody that turned solemn when he realized just how much his nieces and nephews had needed tonight. She felt like a glass of water after traveling in a wasteland for far too long. But she was really a tightrope over a canyon. If he swayed too far left or too far right, he’d fall and everything would come crashing down around him. There was no room for failure. No room for his family to lose even more than they already had. He wasn’t allowed to fall in love with her, yet he couldn’t help but feel like the ground was going to be pulled out from under him anyway.

You are completely and utterly fucked.

Chapter 10

Talia

The morning was never really underway without music, and that morning, the vibe was teenage angst. Talia blasted her playlist consisting entirely of the punk rock bands she used to listen to as a teenager, pretending to be rebellious while in reality being as strait-laced as they came. The angry songs about fathers abandoning their daughters and the world being absolute shit were her favorite. Scream-singing songs in the morning allowed her to present as the same organized person she normally did day-to-day. Plus, who wouldn’t love to belt out a line that perfectly described how emo their internal thoughts were. Simple Plan’s “Welcome to My Life” spoke to every person whether they had daddy issues or not, and Talia did have some of those. Fountains of Wayne spoke to the crushing feeling of having the hots for your girlfriend’s mom (okay, she’d never experienced that, but it didn’t stop her from whipping her hair around to “Stacey’s Mom”). Then again, she’d probably be more inclined to Stacey’s dad—see daddy issues. And Green Day? Well, that just made her want to throw on some heavy eyeliner and hide under a pile of blankets (in the best way possible).

Talia knew the next song by the first piano note. She was fully prepared to loudly proclaim the lyrics while pretending to have thick curtain bangs when the doorbell interrupted. Amala was supposed to pick her up so they could carpool to the coffee shop together, but she was about a half hour early.

The amount of space Walker was taking up in Talia’s headlately was starting to unnerve her, and spending every morning at Roaster’s Republic with him wasn’t helping. Inviting along Amala as a buffer was the perfect plan. Amala had always been on team “please feel free to sleep with Walker and then immediately tell me about it,” but she agreed to help reign in the sexual tension by tagging along to coffee that morning like some sort of weird chaperone. Hopefully having a tag-along would help Talia convince herself that she wasn’t going just to see him every day. It was strictly because of her caffeine addiction.

There was no chance of a romantic relationship with Walker. He was still grieving, for heaven’s sake. Still, Talia felt her mind keep playing tricks on her. She sometimes caught certain looks that said Walker wasn’t completely against the idea of taking her to bed, always evaporating so quickly they left her wondering if she had imagined them. She often wondered if he felt the pang in his chest when they touched or the need to cross his legs to relieve the pent-up pressure—did men do that? All these thoughts were entirely inappropriate to be having for a friend who had no interest in anything other than platonic coffee-drinking and the occasional dinner party.

The touching was always casual—a light squeeze of her shoulders here, a gentle transfer of a coffee stirrer there. The fact that he noticed she liked to gnaw on the stir sticks and always had one ready for her when they sat together was another on the long list of reasons he made her feel seen. But there was nothing inherently romantic about Walker knowing she wanted to bite down on plastic every morning. Every touch and thoughtful gesture could easily pass as friendly and chaste. It was, in all likelihood, completely platonic.

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