by R. J. Lewis
The bushes shook near him. He turned his head in time to see Dominic cutting through them, the same frightened expression on his face. But Dominic was resolute. He was better at bottling it all in and ploughing through.
In sync, they moved together, shouting Max’s name, looking in places his bony little body might have crawled into. They heard the sound of the rushing river and went to it, shuddering as the wind blew through them, sucking the warmth out of their limbs. The rain started to fall, growing heavier and heavier, coating them head to toe, plastering their clothes to their bodies.
There was a rock face all along here just before the river. Worried, Conor ran alongside the cleared trail, peering over the edge and at the rocks below.
It was a nasty fall. If Max had gone over, his bones might have shattered on impact. The rocks were sizeable, some of them large as boulders and spiky. Oh God, what if he had run and not seen the river coming? He might have sailed over the edge and dropped four metres below.
Or he might have landed in the river if he’d jumped far enough ahead, but the river was flowing fast and turbulently. If Max had landed in the rapids, he would have been carried off, and Conor didn’t even know if the kid knew how to swim. Max had always seemed so sheltered.
The same thoughts blazed through Dominic. He started to shake harder as they raced along the trail, eyes on the river and then the rocks below. They weren’t even screaming Max’s name anymore. Now, there was nothing but dread and fear pooling at the bottom of their stomachs.
By the time they noticed the figure in front of them, it was too late. Dominic raced into a large body and fell back, landing on the dirt trail with a thump. Thames skid to a stop in the mud just in time, but he nearly fell over Dominic’s form. He looked up, and the second his eyes connected with the man before them, something colder than the chill in the air settled inside him.
Immediately, his teeth began chattering, and Dominic lay there still, unmoving, staring up at the figure with wide eyes.
The man was tall, broad and wearing a long green raincoat with the hood up and shrouding his forehead and almost his eyes. But there was enough of the eyes that Conor could see. Dark in colour, but also dark in the way he stared down at Conor.
“A little far from home, boys, don’t you think?” he asked quietly, voice deep.
Dominic was still not moving, and Conor’s shakes were in his fingers now. He’d never felt that before. Never felt adrenaline in his hands like this.
Something was off about this man.
About the way this man was looking at them.
More than that, there was something off about bumping into a man in the middle of a trail on the outskirts of town with eyes like those, with a raincoat like that, with a question like the one he’d just asked.
Conor didn’t answer, but his eyes remained frozen on the man as he knelt and reached for Dominic. He gripped his shoulder, squeezed and tried to pull him up.
“We’re looking for our friend,” Dom said, voice small as he stood on shaky legs.
Conor gripped him by the arm now and pulled him back behind him, shielding him from the large man who – Conor just noticed – had both hands in his pockets.
“Your friend,” the man repeated, his gaze still locked on Conor’s. “How does a boy get lost this far out of town?”
“We were playing a game…” Dom began. “He’s hiding somewhere.”
No, no, Conor wanted to scream. He didn’t want this man to know that.
“Actually,” he spoke up, swallowing, “I know where he is, Dom. I saw him hiding and I didn’t want to spoil it for everyone.”
Conor took a few steps back from the man, and Dominic followed. The man stood still, eyeing them both. He lifted his head a little as they moved. The water slid down his long green coat, pooling on the ground around him.
Then he said, “I can look with you.”
Conor shook his head. “I just said I know where he is.”
“Do you really?”
Feeling on edge, Conor retorted, “Yeah.”
The man remained still, but his eyes flickered from boy to boy. His voice was eerily calm, eerily still when he replied, “I don’t think you know where Max is at all.”
Their reaction was immediate.
Dom stiffened in alarm and Conor balled his hands into fists.
The man noticed.
“You’ve been screaming that boy’s name for a couple hours now,” he simply explained.
Conor stopped moving and stared hard at him now. He didn’t say it, but he wondered why this man had been lingering around here for hours.
“Three of you have been traipsing along, screaming that boy’s name, but none of you have bothered to return to town for help.” The man swung his gaze at Dominic, studying him curiously, asking, “You’re not allowed this far out, are you?”
Dominic didn’t answer.
Neither did Conor.
The man smiled coolly. “Did you know there’s a reason the adults don’t want you this far out? Of course not. You wouldn’t be here if you knew.”
“I do know,” Conor retorted, unable to stop himself. “You’re talking about the killings that happened after the mill shut down, after people lost their jobs and a man went crazy losing everything.”
Now the man was looking at Conor and the smile was gone. Replacing it was an expression that was loaded with malice. There was no other way to describe the evil in this man’s face.
“You’re a brave child,” he said just then, tone still flat. “And the way you grabbed your friend there, situating him behind you like you’re protecting him, you’re the leader, aren’t you?”
Conor didn’t respond. He was too busy noticing this man’s hands were still lodged in his pockets. He felt a cold feeling wash over him as he wondered what this man might be carrying.
“Focus, boy,” the man hissed just then, forcing his gaze back to his face. “I’m asking you a question.”
“He is,” Dom quickly answered for him, voice shaking.
The man’s eyes never left Conor’s. “Not a very good leader if you can’t answer that for yourself. Also, can’t be good if you’re a leader and you’ve lost a friend playing a game of Hide and Seek.” The man took a step forward, a small step, his eyes growing colder as he continued studying Conor. “Also…not a very good leader if you have just one boy behind you. Where’s the other one?”
“We told you, he’s lost,” Dominic stuttered.
“No,” the man retorted, that cool smile reappearing. “I’m not talking about the little one that’s always crying. I’m talking about the mouthy one you left behind. If I were either of you, I’d be running back in there and looking for him in case he doesn’t disappear, either.”
Dominic was fidgety now. He was ready to run and do just that, but Conor felt like he’d just been kicked in the stomach. Panic and terror swarmed his insides as he realized what Dominic might have been too scared to notice.
Dom began to shake uncontrollably. “Conor,” he whimpered, grabbing at his arm now. “Conor, we have to go!”
“Time is ticking, boy,” the man said to him just then, the smile growing.
Dominic tugged harder on Conor’s arm.
Conor didn’t want to go.
He stared at the man with horrified eyes, knowing…knowing he knew where Max was.
The second the man took another step closer, Conor snapped out of his terrified trance and ran back into the forest with Dom.
Chapter Twenty
Thames
He started to get up early in the mornings.
The first morning he got up before Charlotte, he woke Penny up and together they descended the stairs and went to the kitchen.
“You know how to make pancakes, Pen?” he asked her quietly.
Penny smiled. “Yes, Daddy. Are we surprising Mommy?”
He nodded, smiling back. “Yeah, baby. I want to make her something good before you go to school.”
Penny was a
whiz in the kitchen. She knew where everything was placed. She knew the recipe like the back of her hand, and she gave him directions, even helping him when he struggled. She loved baking and food, he’d learned. He’d always seen her at Charlotte’s side as she cooked.
She sat on the edge of the island – something Charlotte scolded her often for doing – and watched him mix the ingredients in the bowl.
“We should serve her breakfast in bed,” she suggested.
He nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. What else can we do?”
“I don’t know, romantic stuff.”
He grinned. “Like flowers?”
Her eyes brightened. “We have flowers in the garden!”
“They’re still alive?”
She nodded. “Yeah, they’re sort of droopy but they’re still good. Want me to grab some?”
“We’ll do that together.”
The consistency of the mix seemed all wrong, but Thames had time to master the art of pancakes. He felt his chest swell at that thought. Time. He would have so much time to treasure his girls.
He knew he needed to help out more. Maybe he’d clean the house. There were always dishes in the sink, and Charlotte was frequently running in and out of the laundry room with baskets of clothes.
“She’s done everything alone, hasn’t she?” he murmured softly.
“Mommy?” Penny asked.
“Yeah, she doesn’t ask for help.”
“She does everything, Daddy, everything. Sometimes she works at nights and I have a babysitter. Sometimes Grandma takes me on sleepovers.”
“How are those?”
“Super fun. Lily always makes nachos and we build a forte and watch movies. This winter we’re going to do ice skating together. Mommy always takes us places. She used to take Lily to her dance classes, and I’d go just to watch her dance. She is really good at it.”
He set the pan on the stove. “Is Aunty Ember ever around?”
She shook her head. “No. She’s always out. I think Kane sees her more than I do.”
He gave her an odd look. “Ember hangs around him?”
Penny shrugged. “He says he sees her. He sneaks around the house a lot after bedtime. There’s a lot of people at his house some nights”
Thames suspected Reid was throwing a lot of parties and Ember was hanging around, still getting shit-faced. So fucking typical of Ember. Her daughter was growing up before her eyes – he’d have done anything to trade places – and she had wasted parenthood for booze and boys.
God, she hadn’t even come around to see him.
It surprised Thames how much that hurt.
But you get in life what you put into it. He’d learned that lesson over the years. Which was why he was not going to squander his freedom this time. He was going to build an empire for his girls, and it was going to start here, this morning, with pancakes.
“Your mother’s said a lot about you hanging around Kane,” he smirked just then, eyeing Penny.
Her cheeks went crimson, but she held herself well, telling him in a straightforward way, “Daddy, Kane is the one.”
Oh, my fuck.
He chuckled, glancing briefly at the stove to turn the element on. “How are you so sure?”
“Because you just know.”
“You just know, hey? Just like that?”
She nodded, brown eyes shining. This girl was going to be stunning. “You do. Didn’t you know it with Mommy?”
After he poured some of the mix in, wincing briefly at how NOT round it was, he turned to look at Penny. She was so invested in the conversation, her hands were gripping the edge of the island and she was leaning forward, staring straight at him, expectantly awaiting his response.
“Did I know?” he responded, thoughtfully. “Yeah, baby, I knew. I saw her standing there, in a crowd of people, and she looked hard and pissed. Her beautiful eyes damned me on the spot. She hated me, did you know that?”
Penny’s mouth dropped. “No way.”
“Yes way.”
“She hated you?”
“She did.”
Now Penny looked terrified. “But why?”
“Because I was a punk. I was supposed to be a gentleman. She needed a gentleman.” He crossed his arms now, reflecting on that moment he saw her in that uniform he had mistook for a costume. He stifled a wince. It had been Halloween, it wasn’t his fault, but okay, it kind of was. Because then he greedily wanted her.
“How did you make her change her mind?” Penny asked just then, mesmerized.
“I didn’t,” he answered, feeling a shred of remorse now for how that night panned out. He whispered so quietly under his breath, “I stole her.”
Yeah, he did.
He tempted her. He used his charm to woo her, and he never regretted it. He still didn’t, and it should have alarmed him. But what person ever regretted capturing a butterfly? No one.
“I think…” he paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “I think your mother believed I had something good inside me. She’s the only person who’s ever believed in me. I still have so much to prove to her, Pen. Can you help me?”
She nodded, excitedly. “Yes, I can help you.”
“Always be honest with me, too. Always tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”
“But you’re an adult.”
“Adults make the most mistakes.”
When he grinned at her, her cheeks went another shade of pink. He saw the affection in her eyes, and he was disarmed by it. Stepping closer to her, he dropped his head and delivered a kiss on the top of her bed head. She needed to comb the shit out of her hair, and her pyjama top was inside-out, but she was perfect.
After he nearly destroyed the batch of pancakes, they wandered out into the backyard. The flowers Penny had spoke of were planted on the soil beside the patio. Thames smiled at the sight of them because the line was all zigzagged and sad looking.
“Your mother plant these?” he asked, though he knew.
She nodded, bending down to pluck a few pretty purple flowers out. “She tried, and then she got frustrated because it wasn’t straight enough. I swear, Daddy, she says I have an anger problem, but Mommy has a big one, too, she just keeps it in her chest. I don’t know how she can carry that weight around. It must feel bad. At least, that’s what Uncle Jem says.”
The way she talked, it was nothing like the way he talked when he was her age.
“You’re an eavesdropper, aren’t you?” he joked. “Those are his words.”
She giggled, pulling a few flowers out. “Yeah, but I pretend I don’t hear anything, but I hear everything. It isn’t my fault. Everyone’s so loud.”
Yeah, Thames nodded, they were.
Charlotte awoke to a tray of pancakes, syrup, jam, and four purple flowers. The smile on her face seared Thames. She sat up, digging in straightaway as Penny explained their surprise. As she ate, the strap of her nightgown slid off her shoulder, and Thames followed the movement, suppressing the ache in the pit of him.
Charlotte fed Penny until she was full and then Penny ran off to play a bit of Minecamp.
Thames stood across the room, back against the dresser, arms crossed, watching his dove eat. She looked up at him, smiling shyly at the attention.
“You gonna come have a bite of your masterpiece?” she asked him, turning the fork in his direction.
Smiling softly, he went. Climbing the bed, he ignored the fork turned in his direction and kissed her instead.
“Tasty,” he told her, swiping his tongue along her bottom lip.
She made a soft sound in the back of her throat, looking at him with drunken eyes. “You’re in a good mood today,” she said.
“Have I been off, pup?”
“You just have moments.”
“What sort of moments?”
She shrugged lightly, prodding the fork at his mouth. “You look…pained at times.”
He opened his mouth and let her shove the burnt pancake in. “I don’t w
ant my off moods to rub off on you.”
“I want them to rub off on me,” she replied, her eyes dropping briefly to the scar on his neck. “You have to let me in at some point, and I think you’ll be surprised to find how good it feels to have someone on your side.”
His smile faded. He brushed his lips against her mouth once more and then retreated. A heavy lump formed in his chest. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the sunlight streaming through the window. Then he shut his eyes, trying to find his calm place again.
“I know you’re curious,” he said just then. “I don’t blame you, Char. I would be, too. If you have a question, ask it. I’ll try to answer…I’ll try, dove.”
He knew her question.
He dreaded hearing it.
“What happened to your neck?” she asked carefully.
He let out a sigh, opening his eyes to the sunshine. “It was a freak attack. One month in, I got stabbed in the neck by an inmate with a shiv. He’d stuck a razor blade on the other end of a toothbrush, had it hidden in his pants. I guess with my size and being a fresh fish, no concrete loyalty to anyone just yet, he wanted to make an example out of me. Wanted to let everyone know it didn’t matter how big I was, that I wasn’t untouchable. He jumped on my back and plunged the knife into my neck when I turned my back to him. It didn’t go in deep before I managed to wrangle him off me. I pulled the knife out eventually.”
“Did you let the guards know?”
As if he’d snitch. “No, dove, that would have put a target on me.”
The guards in that prison were dirty, anyway. They always looked the other way.
“What did you do with the knife?”
He looked at her. “I kept it.”
She didn’t respond. That was her only question.
She knew…she knew when it got too much.
Inching to her, he took a flower off her tray and settled the stem behind her ear, smiling softly at how beautiful she looked. She smiled back, though it was tinged with sadness and…confusion?
“You do too much,” he said, solemnly. “You’ve taken care of yourself and our baby for years, and I wasn’t there to help. But I’m here now, Charlotte, I’m indebted to you and want to do my part. I don’t want to be locked in this house. I’m not afraid of the world. You don’t need to protect me. I know that’s what you’re doing, and maybe you’re scared something will happen, but I’m not going anywhere. It’s my job to protect you and take care of you, and I’m going to do that, dove. I’m going to take care of my girls.”