Conor Thames 2

by R. J. Lewis

I held back my eyeroll. “I’ll pass your message along to Mr Locke.”

  Now he stilled and, realizing his error, he looked at me with slight panic behind his gaze. “Let’s not do that, honey.”

  I let out a hard laugh. “Honey? It was bitch two seconds ago.”

  “That’s blasphemy. I would never call a woman that. I’m a man of God, after all.”

  “Clearly.”

  “God bless you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “May the power of Christ compel you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the –”

  “You can stop that.”

  “Good night, Miss Miles.”

  “Good night, Mr Crane.”

  Fifty-five long and arduous minutes in this suffocating room and we were done. Mr Crane finally left, and I wanted to stick a few needles in each eye. My blood pressure was through the roof.

  Locke owed me big time.

  I zipped the messenger bag closed and stood up to adjust my pencil skirt. Pulling my phone out of the side pocket of the bag, I sent the jerk a message.

  All done. No more night calls with this anti-feminist geezer. Apparently, I belong in the kitchen. Your clients never cease to amaze me, Locke. No one should have to feel the kind of stress I feel when I meet with them. It’s so unnecessary, don’t you think? Just think about it, Locke. Isn’t it? It’s so…yeah, unnecessary. I can’t think of a better word to describe how UNNECESSARY it is to feel THIS sort of stress. I should file a complaint. I wonder if you’d actually do something about it if I did. In the meantime, I look forward to more verbal abuse and your lack of response to it.

  Locke didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. Wasn’t even the least bit curious how abusive his latest client was. No wonder I liked to go on these texting tangents. I often said what I wanted without being called out for it. He never did text back unless he demanded shit from me. Ungrateful jerk. He was a bad boss with a seriously bad temper, but I was an equally bad employee, coming and going as I pleased. He allowed me to work around my own hours, but I slaved hard for that privilege when I did clock in, doing his dirty work. Our dirty work. Locke had me twisted up in his mess. I was part of his web, practically in the centre of it, and yet…Locke was still a giant question mark.

  I knew him better than most. He even admitted so on numerous occasions. I’d seen things behind the curtain no other person had. Max Locke frightened me. He was peculiar and savage. I watched him rip businesses apart, destroy livelihoods and careers, tear apart families and jail fathers and husbands and sons, and he never bat a fucking eye.

  He lost no sleep being wicked.

  And me? I lost sleep every single night. I tossed and turned, wondering when the house of cards was going to collapse. Wondering how many enemies he had accumulated and how many would end him and thus end me and all I’d built with him.

  Seven years of this crap. Of seeing his cold and callous face, of hearing his spine-tingling voice bark orders at me. Seven years of weird as fuck encounters. Years of…

  I need you, Charlotte.

  I saw unspeakable things.

  The clock was winding down now. I had reached financial stability with the help of Locke. I may have hated him at times, but I owed him everything because he found me in my ruin and gave me an opportunity at my lowest point.

  And yet, despite the pleasant paychecks, despite the pretty roof over my head, despite the life I’d built in this black hearted town, I still craved something beyond it.

  I stared down at a spot on the floor, chasing after those lost moments in the past. I was happy once, truly happy for a brief moment. But I blinked and it was over, and I was so cold.

  These days I lived solely for Penny. I even looked forward to those awkward as fuck encounters with Locke because he breathed a bit of life into me. Jem was my rock, Laura my long-distance best friend, and Locke the guilt on my conscience.

  The door opened a crack. “Charlotte?”

  I blinked, snapping out of my void. “Yeah, hon?”

  The door opened even more now, and Tanya poked her dark head in. “Annika says you have a client in the next room.”

  Annoyance flared through me. “Annika is setting up surprise appointments now? Why am I doubtful?”

  “She says the guy asked for you directly by name.”

  “And she just acquiesced?”

  Tanya’s eyes widened. “I guess?”

  Annika had a serious problem obeying orders in the club. She covered up more than she was supposed to show. She let guys touch her provocatively in the open, which was forbidden in the rulebook. And now she was putting guys in rooms for me to meet with?

  She was hanging by a thread as far as I was concerned.

  Not that I would fire her or anything.

  She was a sweetheart, goddammit, and she hadn’t been in town very long. I suspected she was running from a bad past.

  Okay, so she wasn’t hanging by a thread because I was weak over other people’s plights. It was a flaw I knew I had. No wonder people like Crane abused me. I just took that shit, didn’t I?

  “Has he been searched?” I asked the obvious.

  “Well, he’s been through security and Jim’s on shift.”

  Jim was very thorough in his searches. Then again, you had to be with the sort of men that frequented this place.

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

  Checking the time on my watch, I let out a long breath. The day was never going to end. What did another meeting matter? Penny was already in bed. I could pick up a quick dinner at a drive-thru and spend the rest of the night in my office going over the shady documents Locke unleashed on me just the other day.

  Maybe I could arrange more discreet meetings in the club for next week.

  More meetings equalled more under the table cash.

  Locke would be impressed by my go-getter attitude.

  This shit was Employee of the Month material. Not that he ever rewarded any of us slaves. Seriously, the dude needed to up morale. Especially when dealing with bigots like Mr fucking Crane.

  My stomach twisted just then thinking of Locke and my devastating encounter with him last month. His pale face, the agony in his eyes as I found him bloodied and undressed…

  I shook my head. Now was not the time.

  “Alright, hon, lead the way.” I walked past Tanya and stood in the corridor, waiting for her to point out the room. She walked to it and stopped by the door, waiting for my command.

  “Open,” I directed sweetly.

  She did and I walked in. All the rooms were different. This one had a brown leather couch against the wall, a black glass coffee table over a white shaggy rug and a bar fridge for drinks. There was a dancer pole in the centre. I resisted cursing under my breath. She’d put the man in one of the naughty rooms. Where mine was clinical, without surveillance, and strictly for business, this room was a place for the ladies to score some extra cash on the side (and they made so much money, I didn’t know why I bothered cooking up the books when the same kind of cash could be spent dangling around these poles, ohmygod, could you imagine?…but anyway).

  I searched the room, finding no occupant. Then I raised a brow at Tanya who was still standing by the door. Her response was a shrug and nothing more.

  “Send me Annika, please,” I demanded.

  She did. Annika showed up not a minute later, a friendly smile on her face. “You needed me?”

  “There’s no one in here.”

  She looked around, like she needed to have that confirmed. Then her face kind of fell with confusion. “He…He was in here.”

  “Who was in here?”

  She had to think about it. “This really good-looking guy.”

  I resisted groaning. “Annika, you’re driving me crazy. I know you have good intentions, but you know you don’t have the authority to set up meetings, especially to do with me.”

  “There was something about him, though.”

&nb
sp; I pursed my lips. “Annika, you’re not listening.”

  “I thought he was one of your clients. Only clients ask for you.”

  I paused. She had a point there.

  “He used your full name, too. It’s not like he was a stranger. He even said you would understand when you saw him. You know this guy.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, studying her face. She was all red, nibbling on her bottom lip like the very sight of this guy had given her an orgasm… or five.

  “You think I know him?” I asked, clarifying.

  “Yes, I do! He was certain you’d want to see him.”

  “What did he look like then?”

  I had a handful of men that met me here in the club. I’d know by the description who it was. Though, admittedly, I couldn’t think of one that could make me orgasm on the spot. They were all old like Mr Crane, or weird, or both. Ew.

  “Okay, so, he was really tall, really broad.” She paused and her eyes glazed back a bit. “He was ripped.”

  “Ripped?”

  “You know, muscley. His biceps were like…they were like crazy big, Charlotte.”

  I bit my lip to stop from smiling. “Okay, he had big biceps.”

  “And triceps, can’t forget those.”

  “Okay, big triceps.”

  “Yeah, even had neck muscles. I didn’t know you could get them that big, and I frequent the gym all the time. Dudes would feel so inadequate next to this guy. Like…bulging muscles, get what I’m saying? You know how sometimes big dudes look kind of like Martians, especially when they tan for those competitions and you’re kind of shuddering? Well, he didn’t look like that. It was like so natural.”

  My head throbbed. “Okay, I know what his muscles look like, but what did he look like?”

  “Okay, so, he had blondish hair, a short beard, pale blue eyes, plump lips, straight nose, and he looked like he was in his thirties.”

  Those were extremely specific details.

  My movements slowed as I pictured the man in question. I knew someone with that exact look. I had to shake my head to rid his face from my mind. Impossible. I was just imagining what I wanted.

  “You have to be more specific, Annika. Anything jump out?”

  She mulled my words over. “He had a deep voice.”

  “Annika, goddammit.”

  “And, well, he wasn’t dressed for the club. It was strangely hot.”

  “What was he dressed in?”

  “Jogging pants and a plain t-shirt.”

  My reaction was immediate. It felt like someone had poured lava into my veins. My entire body heated at the image her description gave me. I froze, my vision blurring a bit with incredulity.

  It was just a coincidence.

  “What else?” I asked, my voice hardly above a whisper.

  “He had tattoos.”

  I swallowed hard, shaking. “Tattoos?”

  “All down his arm, and the reason I think you know him is because I think…”

  “You think what?” I bristled.

  “I think I read your name on his neck.”

  I stormed past her, feeling my legs wobble as I went.

  “Where was he?” I shouted behind me.

  Annika ran up to my side, looking panicked. “He was near the bar when I found him.”

  I emerged from the corridor and stared directly at the bar. There was no man with that description there. I spun in a slow circle, taking in every face and body, but none were him.

  Could it have been him?

  Logic said no, it was still too early.

  But then again, perhaps…

  “Charlotte,” Annika pressed, “do you know who he was?”

  I didn’t answer.

  If I spoke my thoughts out loud, it might give me hope, and I couldn’t afford to be crushed. Not again.

  I raced to the exit, demanding the guard to let me through. He opened it and I stepped into the entry room. All three men looked to me, taking in my distraught state.

  I stared at Jim, demanding, “Did Conor Thames come through the door?”

  Jim pursed his lips, frowning at me. “I’m not allowed to say who came and went, Miss Miles.”

  “Jim,” I hissed in distress, “don’t fuck with me. Did you open the door for him?”

  “You know I follow Locke’s orders.”

  Through clenched teeth, I demanded once more, “Was he Conor Thames or not?”

  “It was Conor,” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned around to see Dorothy standing at the threshold, a silk robe covering her body. “I was dancing when he showed up. We locked eyes.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. I was going to pass out if I didn’t breathe.

  “Are you sure, Dorothy?” I implored, desperately.

  She nodded solemnly. “Who could forget a face like Conor Thames?”

  Chapter Five

  Charlotte

  I seethed in the car, chewing on my nail, aware more than ever he was watching me from the corner of his eye. The cheeky asshole had the audacity to smirk at me.

  “Yeah, keep smiling,” I growled. “Like I can’t see that.”

  “You’re wound up tight.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “I don’t even remember her.”

  I’d held my tongue the entire night since the incident. Since we’d seen the random bitch try her moves on my man like I didn’t exist. Like I wasn’t heavily pregnant and carrying his fucking baby.

  “Did you do anything to discourage her?” I challenged, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Yeah, I told her to fuck off,” he answered swiftly, looking so damned relaxed. “You were right there, dove. So was Jem. So was everyone at the bar.”

  “I’m tired of feeling like another number.”

  “The last thing you are is another number.”

  “Try being in a place I’ve fucked half the town in.”

  I didn’t know what had come over me, but I hadn’t been that angry in a very long time. Jealousy sat heavy at the pit of my belly. Tears spotted my vision. These hormones were making me into a crazy person.

  Right away, Conor pulled the car over on the side of the road. He looked at me, the smirk now gone, as if he was just realizing how serious I was being. His mood had immediately shifted, and he appeared conflicted.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered contritely, “I’m sorry.”

  I blinked back tears, looking down at my lap. He was being so understanding, and I had just lost my cool. He didn’t deserve that.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” I mumbled back, shrugging. “I’m hormonal as hell right now, Conor.”

  “You have every right to be upset with me.” He took my hand into his, rubbing his thumb tenderly over my palm. “If I knew you existed before I’d been with anyone, I would have waited for you.”

  I looked at him dryly. “Sure you would.”

  He looked dead serious, though. “If you only knew for just one second what I felt for you, Charlotte, you wouldn’t be so sceptical. I’m being serious. I would have waited my whole life for you. I wouldn’t have been such a fuck up.”

  “You’re not, Conor –”

  “No, I am,” he cut in, sounding resolute. “I know what a piece of shit I’ve been. I’m not proud of my mistakes. I’m fucking tired of being the tough guy. With this baby on the way, I just…” He paused, pressing his lips together, looking tortured. “I feel like I lived my whole life and I’ve got nothing to show for it. What do people think of me? They think I’m an asshole. They think I’m a womanizer. They think I’m going to get put right back in the slammer. They’re all waiting for me to fuck up.”

  Oh, God.

  Now I just felt plain awful. Remorse replaced the jealousy, and immediately I felt so utterly stupid for feeling jealous to begin with. He had never taken his eyes off me. He had been by my side from the start. He breathed me in, intoxicated by my presence and never tired of it.

  “You’re not going t
o fuck up,” I told him, squeezing his hand tight.

  He gave me a soft smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You believe in me so much, dove. You have no idea the strength that gives me.”

  “I believe in you because I’ve seen you change.”

  “I’m nowhere near where I want to be.”

  “And we have time to get there.”

  He swallowed, looking out the windshield with a faraway look. “Sometimes I want to leave this town behind. I think about places we can start new in. I think of what it would be like to walk down a street and not have a single person know who I am.”

  My heart squeezed for him. “We can do that, Conor.”

  He nodded. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m running. I want to leave this place proving everyone wrong. I want to make things right with Dom, with Locke.”

  I didn’t know what he needed to make right with Dom or Locke, but I said, “You will.”

  “With you in my corner, I know I will.” He looked me in the eyes, convinced of his words. “A good woman can change a man.”

  I leaned to him and brought my free hand up. I tapped his chest gently, smiling warmly at him. “You’ve always been the man you want to be underneath that jackass cover.”

  He chuckled weakly. “I don’t know about that, dove. I looked at you and I wanted you for myself. I made an oath I’d do anything to keep you. So, these women…”

  My smile faded. “I was jealous, Conor.”

  He watched our hands intertwine, saying, “They mean nothing. Nothing. I’d do anything to erase them all.”

  “I know that.”

  I squeezed his hand again, offering my support. I made a promise to myself to never get shitty at his past flings again. The man next to me was ashamed of them. He didn’t look back and think he was high and mighty for it. He genuinely regretted every single one of them.

  “Promise you’ll never leave me, dove,” he implored, looking back at me.

  I smiled, though my heart hurt. “I promise, Conor.”

  I called Locke five times. He didn’t answer. Who didn’t see that coming?

  I called Jem and he answered straightaway.

  “Charlotte, you okay?” he asked first thing.