Page 61 of The Ones We Fight For

Walker ran a flustered hand through his rain-matted hair, then down over his damp stubble. He rocked back on his heels as his eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them, he had hoped that she would either be gone or prepared to let the whole thing slide. No such luck. Talia wasn’t going to let him off easy, and she wasn’t admitting to knowing anything. Walker’s walls were starting to crumble around him, his shirt beginning to resemble a napkin thrown into a vat of liquid, suctioning against his body and making the tightness in his chest worse.

“I can’t… I don’t…” Walker stammered, floundering to find the right words. Any words. Finally, he shuddered in a breath and reached a hand up just in front of Talia, desperate to cradle her face. He hesitated just a moment before letting his hand fall back to his side, deciding he didn’t deserve the comfort of her touch while he said what he was about to say.

“I think about you every waking moment of every day, Tal," Walker exhaled. "And I know I shouldn't. I shouldn’t want to touch you like that, but I… I even dream about you, and it’s—God, it’s agonizing when I wake up and it’s not real, knowing that I can’t have you and I can’t be with you.”

“Why can’t you?” Talia’s voice cracked with emotion, a pained expression taking over her face that made Walker want to die on the spot. He had already hurt her with that single admission.

“Because I feel fucking guilty! The only reason you’re even here right now is because my brother and sister-in-law died. If they didn’t, I would never have met you.”

There it was: the truth, or, at least, part of it. And yet, it felt like a lie the second it left his mouth. Maybe he and Talia could have met under different circumstances. Or maybe if Cole and Paisley were still alive, Walker would have found someone else, someone who would never be as genuine or as beautiful as Talia, but at least he wouldn't have known what he was missing. Picturing a life without her made him want to pull her in and never let go, but he had to stop before it went any further. He had to do what was best for her and for his family.

“You’re blaming me for their death again?” A flash of anger passed through Talia’s eyes, and her nose twitched.

Walker violently shook his head to dispel the idea. “Of course I’m not! But I’m not going to act like fate threw us together as some sort of fucked-up consolation prize! Even if I did, I’d end up ruining it. I promise you, you don’t want me, Tal. Don’t you get it? They can’t lose one more person. If we dated, I would inevitably screw everything up, and I wouldn’t be the only one losing you. They would, too. If fate brought you here, it was to help them, not me.”

Talia adamantly shook her head and took a step forward. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” Walker took another step away from her, fearing what might happen if she came any closer. “The only reason I’m doing okay with the kids now is because of you. I’m unreliable. I’m surprised I haven’t set the fucking house on fire with the amount of food I burn. And the way I repaid you for helping me was by giving you two black eyes that you’ve only just healed from. I destroy everything I touch, and I–”

A flash of motion catapulted toward him, and Walker’s peripherals picked up on it just in time for him to feel the pressure and sharp pain of a fist cracked against his nose. Reeling back in surprise, he stumbled, feet splashing in the water that had puddled on the ground. He caught his footing a moment later and balled up his hands to defend himself from his assailant. For a second he thought Talia had punched him, and he wouldn’t have been surprised. He deserved it. Instead, Clifford stood glowering at him, hands still raised like he was planning on landing another sucker punch.

“Cliff!” Talia gasped. She slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide and alert.

“Now, wait just a second.” Walker unclenched his fists, flattening and holding them up in front of him in an attempt to defuse the situation. “This is a misunderstanding, I didn’t hit—”

Cutting him off again, Clifford swung. Walker side-stepped the flying fist in the nick of time and jutted his hand out to grasp Clifford’s arm. He twisted, forcing the arm into compliance behind the idiot’s back to restrain him. It was harder than it usually would have been. Walker’s hand kept wanting to slip off due to the rain coating everything, but the maneuver was still second nature to him thanks to his wrestling days and the Krav Maga training he’d kept up with until Cole died.

“Walker, don’t hurt him!” Talia shouted as Walker strategically pinned Clifford against the side of the car, pressing his face into the window.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Walker’s voice was strained as he struggled to hold Clifford in place with one arm lodged in between the guy’s shoulder blades to keep him from moving. The makeshift straitjacket required his entire body weight to force Clifford into submission. Realizing they had an audience of all his nieces and nephews across the way, who were always too nosy to keep to themselves, Walker leaned forward to growl his demands in Cliff’s ear. “Calm down, Rocky. I would prefer to not hurt you. I could easily dislocate your shoulder, and trust me, that hurts like a bitch, but I don’t want to have to do that. I can respect why you punched me, but I will have to defend myself if you refuse to settle this civilly.”

“Oh, now you're a pacifist?” Cliff hissed back through gritted teeth. "But punching a woman is totally fine with you?"

“It was an accident. I hit her with my car door when I opened it,” Walker said coolly.

“They always say it’s an accident,” Clifford snapped, writhing against the side of the car. He groaned, stopping before Walker could actually pop his shoulder out of its socket.

Talia stepped in with frantic persistence. “It was an accident, Cee, I promise. He even came over afterward and spent a whole day babying my face even though I was fine.”

“Cee.” She loves him.

Clifford was still squirming, unrelenting in his disbelief, so Walker did the only thing he could think of to do: double-checked to make sure Piper and the others were far enough away to not hear him when he admitted the truth.

“I was… having a panic attack and I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings when I opened the door,” he said, his voice dropping in shame. “It was still my fault, but it was an accident.”

It was the first time Walker had ever said the words “panic attack” out loud. The only other person who knew about what had happened was Talia, and she wasn’t aware that he had at least ten since his brother died and several more when he was younger. It felt degrading to admit it to someone who wasn’t her, like he had lost whatever invisible battle of honor he was fighting. Clifford probably didn’t cave under pressure. He was probably stable and mentally capable of anything the world threw at him.

“Walker,” Talia said. She reached out to touch him, her eyes filling with tears. He moved away, transferring his weight to his left foot and letting go of Clifford’s arm.

“Look, man. If you’re willing to fight me on her behalf, then you aren’t as bad as I originally thought.” Walker created even more distance between himself and Talia and only spoke to Clifford, fearing that if he looked at Talia, she would finally realize what a disappointment he was. “I’ll back off, okay? I shouldn’t have intruded on your date. If she’s going to be with anyone, it might as well be you.”

“I don’t get any say in this?” Talia seethed.

Walker gave a short reply, barely making eye contact. “He’s better for you.”

“You’re taking the easy way out.” She shook her head.

This is far from easy, Walker thought.

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