by R. J. Lewis
Thames wanted to laugh. The bullshit could be smelled from a mile away. Instead, he stared dryly at Holden, asking, “Why the fuck do you want to help me, Holden?”
Something was amiss. He could feel it under the surface, but he couldn’t put his finger on Holden’s motive.
“Anyone can leave the crew,” Holden answered simply. “They have to pay for it, is all. I’m just trying to lessen the score for you, bro. I know prison’s made you cold, and we weren’t the kind of people we’d look back and be proud of, but…out here we get to choose who we are.”
Thames blinked slowly, staring vacantly at the fake cunt.
Out here we get to choose who we are.
Cute.
So fucking cute.
He almost felt like he was attending a motivational seminar. Holden, the cunt face lunatic, had the power of the gab.
But Thames wasn’t easily swayed.
Experience taught him that you had to watch out for the masters of the gab. They were usually the ones full of shit.
“I can’t go back to prison,” Thames expressed firmly, staring at this fake asshole right in the eyes. “I think after everything I’ve done in max, I get the privilege to speak to Number One.”
“I’m telling you, he isn’t like that,” Holden replied. “He doesn’t do face-to-face, Thames. That’s not his style.”
“Then he’s going to have to change his fucking style, Holden, because I am not budging about this, and I’m not going to make peace with you acting as the middle-man.”
Holden’s smile went lazy. “Ouch.”
“So you tell him that.”
“He won’t like it.”
Thames shook his head, slowly responding, “I don’t give a fuck, Holden. That’s where I stand.”
Holden brushed his nose, heavy in thought now, chewing slowly. He drummed his fingers some more on the island, looking up periodically at Thames.
“You got mad balls,” he commented after a while. “Something tells me this is going to be more complicated than necessary.”
Then let it be. Thames thought. He wasn’t afraid to meet number one, number ten, number seven fucking million. It was all a scare tactic, these stupid fucking numbers.
All he wanted to do was sort this fucking issue out so he could live his life. So he could work and provide like a real man. So he could be a father. So he could fuck his dove staring her in the eyes and not feel like he was hiding from himself.
Fuck Holden.
Fuck Number One.
Fuck the Raven crew.
“Look, let me try again,” Holden said, breaking the silence. “Leaving the crew isn’t impossible, it just means you gotta pay us back.”
“Do I look like I have money?”
“It doesn’t mean money.” Lowering his voice, Holden explained, “I hear you have a crooked cousin.”
“He is crooked,” Thames acknowledged. “But so are half the men in this town.”
“But he’s boosting cars, I hear.”
“Why don’t you go have a word to him about that?”
“I’ve had the guys scope out his place. I see an opportunity there, one you could bring to Number One.”
“He’s cornered the market here, and I’m not interested in chop shopping.”
“Number One might be.” Holden shrugged now, looking interested. “Think about it. If your dirty cousin’s cornered the market, it means he’s got a list of very important contacts.”
“You’d end up waging war with him.”
“Nothing we haven’t handled before.”
Thames glared. “You’re willing to spill blood for a bunch of illegal car parts?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds kind of fucked up.”
“Kind of?”
“I see a lot of money, and your ticket out, Thames.”
“I’m not interested in going to war over cars.”
“You were considering it once upon a time.”
Thames nodded. “Yeah, back when I was a young, dumb shit. Now I’m staying clean.”
“You ever talk to him about it?”
“About what?”
“About taking the business from under you. You spoke about it once back in max. Said he and his dad had tried to corner the market when you were trying to get back into the game. Ever wondered if he was open to doing business. It doesn’t have to get messy if he’s a willing participant.”
“Him and his father would never be willing participants.”
“How sure are you?”
“I’m telling you right now, it’s a waste of time.”
“Think about it –”
“Holden,” Thames retorted, tightly. “I’m not going to talk about this shit to you. If Number One wants something from me, I’ll hear it from him.”
“You’re a stubborn fuck, hey?”
Thames didn’t back down. Not when Holden’s gaze went hard and his chewing ceased. They stared at each other for a tense moment.
Thames would not budge.
The door opened just then, breaking the strained silence between them. He heard Penny yammering away to Charlotte, and his eyes dimmed. It took everything in him not to throw the fucker out right that second.
“Is that your family?” Holden asked, chuckling. “I’m not sure I can handle this, Thames, after seeing what you’re capable of.”
Thames hoped to fucking God Charlotte would whisk Penny upstairs and go with her. The thought of this fucking dickhead seeing them made his blood turn to acid.
“Daddy, we’re home!” Penny came bounding into the kitchen, leaping into Thames’ arms.
Fuck.
He picked her up, holding her tight as she rained kisses down on his cheek. He couldn’t break out of character, though. He kept his jaw locked as he hugged her. Charlotte followed closely behind, halting in her footsteps at the sight of Holden. It was like she fucking knew straightaway he was trouble. His fiery dove masked her feelings, glancing at Thames with caution.
“To your room now, Penny,” she said sharply. “Like we agreed in the car.”
She skipped out of the room the second Thames set her down. He didn’t even think she paid any notice to Holden.
“Sweet kid,” Holden noted, looking genuinely intrigued before he swept his gaze to Charlotte. He froze, checking her out. Thames fisted his hand, swearing to himself if he didn’t fucking look away in the next five seconds, he’d lunge at the fucker.
“Wow,” Holden murmured. “I can see why you rejected the girl I sent you. This really your girl?”
Charlotte stood straighter. “I’m sorry, who are you? I feel like I’ve just intruded.”
“I’m a friend,” Holden said, swinging his hand out for her to shake. “Name’s Holden.”
She eyed his hand for a beat before taking it into her own. “Charlotte.”
“Charlotte,” he repeated softly, glancing briefly at the name etched on Thames’ neck, a look of understanding dawning on him. “Nice to meet you.”
“You didn’t intrude, dove,” Thames said just then, waiting for Holden to let go of her fucking hand. “Holden was just leaving.”
Holden chuckled and nodded, understanding he was being thrown out. But he took it in stride, grumbling, “Yeah, sure.”
This fucker needed to leave now.
Before Thames did anything stupid.
He let go of Charlotte’s hand – or rather, Charlotte instantly dropped hers from his grip the second his loosened. Thames didn’t walk ahead of him to the door. Leading him out like that meant he wouldn’t have his eyes on the fucker every step of the way. Instead, he trailed behind Holden, watching him carefully as he glanced around the house on his way. Thames grabbed the key to the SUV on the side table just as Holden stopped in front of the door.
“This is the key to the car,” he said, keeping his voice level as he dropped it into Holden’s waiting hand.
Holden appeared amused. “It’s no hassle if you need it.”
“I don
’t.”
“Well, seeing as our chat isn’t over, I’ll keep in touch. I’ll let you get used to things first, give you some time to settle in with your family. With,” he paused, smiling devilishly, “Charlotte. Man, oh man, if I had a woman like that, it’d be my best kept secret too.”
A cold chill ran down Thames’ spine. His blood pumped faster as rage coiled his insides. The motherfucking cheek on this fucker. Thames flicked a glance over his shoulder, making sure Charlotte wasn’t around to hear that. When he didn’t see her, he whipped the door open and came up from behind Holden, forcing him to move. The second he stepped out onto the porch, Thames snapped. He followed after him, closing the door behind him. He made sure his front pressed against Holden’s back, forcing him down the steps. Holden picked up his pace, glancing back at Thames with that cheeky glint in his eye.
“Jesus, Thames,” he said, “calm down, hey?”
But Thames wasn’t satisfied until Holden was at his car. He was too angry to form coherent words. His face darkened, his body went taut, his fists clenched at his sides as Holden turned around to face him. But Thames hadn’t backed down. He continued at him, forcing his front against Holden’s now, until Holden’s back suddenly pressed against the driver side door of his car.
Glaring down at him with that familiar rage, Thames gritted out, “If you ever come to my house again, I will stab you the way I stabbed all those fuckers back in max. I will guide that blade straight into your throat and rip your artery out in one smooth stroke. I will watch you bleed to death, motherfucker.”
Holden’s amusement washed away as he looked back at Thames in shock. “I came here to help you, man –”
“Don’t you fucking speak to me about lending a helping hand,” Thames interrupted, voice tight with fury. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit, you cunt fucker.”
“Watch who you’re talking to, Thames.”
“I know the cunt I’m speaking to very well.” Thames voice lowered into a deep growl. “Holden, I know the cunt I’m speaking to very, very well.” He repeated slowly, making sure Holden held his gaze now.
There was so much there in that one line that made Holden go completely mute with understanding.
“Now you understand why you hold no sway over me,” Thames continued. “You don’t get to watch my soul bleed out of me for years and then expect me to fear you. I’ve been to hell before; I know that place like the back of my hand. You motherfucker, you hold no strings on me. I will kill you if you ever show your face around my place again. I will fucking stomp your head flat to the ground like I’ve done before if you look at my girl with that smile again. Now get the fuck off my driveway before I consider going back to prison.”
Holden’s body was tight with anger, but his mouth remained shut. He forced a single nod at Thames, and Thames stepped back. Holden slipped into the driver’s side and slammed it shut. Thames didn’t budge as the car started, but Holden let the window roll down. Not looking at him, his final words were, “Don’t make us your enemy, Thames.”
“Come back with Number One and then we’ll talk,” Thames retorted. “Until then, fuck off.”
Scowling, Holden reversed out of the driveway and sped down the street.
Thames didn’t move for a very long time. His vision was spotty and his body trembled. When he finally blinked out of the dark haze he was in, he glanced around the sunny street, noticing kids playing a few houses down. His gaze stopped at his neighbour, a middle-aged family man sitting on his porch swing, staring straight at him with a stunned expression. The second his eyes connected with Thames, he looked away.
Chapter Nineteen
Charlotte
I watched Conor lead Holden out of the kitchen. They spoke in hushed tones for a few more minutes before Conor led him out of the house.
What in the fuck was that about?
Feeling uneasy, I waited for Conor, but he didn’t return for a long time. I could smell the strange guy’s scent in the air, knew he’d been in the kitchen for a while. His smirk got under my skin the second I saw it, and his words…
I see why you rejected the girl I sent you.
My skin prickled with anger.
He chose his words, dissecting my reaction – and confusion.
What girl did he send to Conor? It couldn’t have been while he was here because he had never left the house, but then what other time was there?
Then a light bulb flickered on inside my brain.
The day he’d gotten out of prison he’d been in the city.
I felt his presence now, watching me from the entrance of the kitchen. I didn’t turn to look at him right away. I was too busy fuming, feeling tightness in my stomach.
“What the hell was that?” I quietly demanded.
“Just someone I know,” he answered vaguely.
“No bullshit,” I hissed, looking at him with hard eyes. “No secrets, Conor. Just tell me.”
He didn’t flinch at my tone. His expression was flat, even understanding. “A guy I met in prison. I share a lot of history with him.”
Okay. I absorbed that explanation, nodding, trying to get my heart to calm down. Why the hell was it beating so hard anyway?
Conor’s entire body looked rigid. I caught the end of his fingers trembling. Spooked, I looked at him, focusing on his flat expression, realizing slowly it was a look I knew so well. It was the one that warned of bad things to come. I felt alarmed.
Something wasn’t right.
“Conor,” I whispered tightly, waiting for his eyes to connect with mine. “Conor, don’t go there,” I pleaded. “It’s a bad place, baby.”
Understanding me, Conor nodded slowly. “I know, dove.”
He shut his eyes, and I watched him carefully as he took in deep breaths and went someplace deep in his mind. Very slowly, the shakes in his fingers stopped and his shoulders relaxed. My mouth parted in surprise as I watched Conor calm himself down.
When he reopened his eyes and met my confused stare, I asked quietly, “Where did you go just now?”
“To a quiet place,” he answered simply, looking calm. “A place they can’t touch me.”
The silence filled the space between us. That empty look was replaced by softness, and it should have consoled me that he brought himself down, but I felt my heart squeeze tightly. Instead, I wondered how often he’d had to have done that to master it. What horrible moments had he been forced to overcome in prison?
I looked down at my hands clenched around the edge of the island. I softly asked, “You saw that man when you got out, right?”
“Yeah, I got picked up when I got out.”
“And then?”
“Then taken to a house party.”
I raised a brow. “A house party?”
“A celebration to be exact.”
“Celebrating what?”
Pause. “My release.”
There was so much not being said in these short responses. Why did I constantly feel like I was prying information out of the men in my life? I looked up at him, dissecting his soft expression with a cagy look.
“What was the girl reference?” I demanded then, because I was a girl and shit like that stuck like flies on shit.
Still transparent, Conor answered. “He had a girl sent to the room I was supposed to be staying in. She was naked when I got out of the shower.”
I stated the obvious. “He sent her to fuck you.”
“Yeah.”
Anger hit me like a tsunami. I gritted my teeth, seething. “And then what?”
“I threw her out, dove.”
I eyed him, knowing full well he was being honest. He had no reason to lie, but… God, I needed some reassurance right now. “You didn’t know I’d be waiting for you. You said so yourself.”
“So?”
“So… weren’t you tempted?”
“No,” he simply answered, his gaze never leaving my face.
“Why?” I whispered, heart in my throat.
�
��Because I was still yours, dove.”
I blinked back tears as he approached me then. His arms came around me, picking me up and settling me down on the island. He cupped his hands around my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. I saw the stark honesty there, and vulnerability too.
“The second I saw you, it’s only been you,” he told me, gauging my expression closely. “I fled the house and ran to see you because I had to know.”
“Know what?” I choked out.
He dropped his forehead to mine. “If I needed to let you go once and for all.”
A lone tear escaped my eye. He brushed it away with his thumb. “Oh, dove, if you only knew what you’ve done to me,” he tenderly said. “I could never be with someone else again, no matter if you’d moved on or not.”
“Really?” I asked, letting my vulnerability show. “Because I didn’t know if you’d moved on, either. I’d have these horrible thoughts, like maybe I was too young and I remembered things differently. Sometimes I had to convince myself it was real between us.”
“It was real,” he confirmed solemnly. “All of it.”
I breathed out a shaky breath. “But you still felt like a stranger when I saw you on that street. I was so scared we were different people.”
“We could be completely different people, it doesn’t change how we felt.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.
“We have a lot of making up to do,” he said. “A lot of time to learn each other again. I’m excited for that, Charlotte. I want to know you all over again, the old you and the new.”
My heart slowed, the aggression in me fading.
He kissed me softly, languidly. It wasn’t a heated kiss and it didn’t lead anywhere, but it was the best kind of kiss. It comforted me, put the negative thoughts to rest and filled me with hope that things were going to be okay.
When he pulled back, I was worrying my lip, looking at him sombrely. “Conor,” I whispered, “I don’t like seeing you look that way when I walked through the door, and I think that guy put it there. Is he going to be trouble?”
I didn’t like that he took a few seconds to respond. He searched for an answer, and I didn’t want bullshit. I needed to understand who the fuck this guy was. To throw him a celebratory party, too? What in the fuck did that mean? And who the hell showed up to that party?