Conor Thames 2

by R. J. Lewis

  “Nothing serendipitous about this, Reid.”

  “You came here on purpose.”

  “Yeah.”

  Reid stared him in the eyes. “Why?”

  Thames smiled darkly. “Why not?”

  “I heard the rumours. I know a bunch of rednecks showed up at your door, and just as quickly, they turned the other way. They said you were a scary motherfucker. I wondered what they could have possibly meant, but…” Reid nodded once, letting out a dry laugh. “I suppose they’re right, aren’t they? You’re looking pretty soulless. You don’t get that way after an easy ride in prison.” Reid eyed him strangely. “You were totally unprotected, weren’t you?”

  Thames straightened. “No one gets a free ride in there.”

  “I guess I thought…” he paused, lost in thought for a moment before shaking his head to himself. “Nah, I guess you were left alone in there, then. Kinda fucked up.”

  “Don’t pretend you would have preferred it some other way.”

  “You took Billy from me, but I don’t dispute what he was. Sometimes I get caught so hard playing a part and I don’t really censor myself when I should. Charlotte…she was violated, I know that, but I didn’t at the time. I thought her mom gave her a hard time, I thought the most Billy did was bully her around. I have my regrets with her, but she still did me dirty, and I’m a little sore about it sometimes, especially when I think of you being with her. Isn’t that kinda fucked?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I should stop, I know. If you understood me a little better, you’d know we’re on the same side, and at the end of the day, we’re cousins.”

  Yeah, cousins. He said that like it ever meant a damn thing.

  “Cousins,” Thames repeated icily. “Cousins who steal each other’s gold and burn their houses down?” He glanced at the house now, sizing it up now, like maybe he ought to burn Reid’s fucking home to the ground too. “How’d you end up breaking in anyway, Reid?”

  Reid didn’t answer. He had a ghost of a smile on his face. Fuck, Thames would have done anything to wipe it off with his fist.

  “Did you know my woman and kid were in there when it started to go up in flames?”

  Reid’s smile wavered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Yeah, sure.

  If this were any other time…

  Thames shook his head, trying to shake sense into his skull. He was testing himself right now, and he shouldn’t have. He was smarter than this.

  He flicked his gaze at Rebecca real quick, a tiny emotion of pity bubbling in his chest. She wouldn’t even meet his eye. Girl had dead eyes, in fact.

  It troubled Thames that he had to have these people in his life.

  Returning his focus to Reid, his expression tightened when he said, “Our kids are close.”

  Reid’s nodded carefully. “They are.”

  “Is the real dad in the picture?” he wondered, narrowing his eyes at Reid.

  “I’m his real dad,” Reid retorted, looking angry now. “Blood means nothing. I brought Kane up. No other dog cunt in the picture. All me.”

  “Only curious.”

  “Nosy fucking question, Conor. Kinda too soon for that shit, hey?”

  This time a calm smile spread on Thames’ face. “When it comes to my baby girl, I’ll ask any question I deem necessary, cousin.”

  Reid’s eyes dimmed. “If you couldn’t tell, I’m not that doormat you used to know, Conor,” he warned. “Nowadays, people are careful how they speak to me. They’re careful not to step on my toes. You wouldn’t like being on the other end of it.”

  “Liking the power, Reid?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  Thames felt the same darkness he’d known for eight years spread through his chest. He took a step closer to Reid, staring down at him because he was still taller, still broader, still bigger. “I didn’t need to warn anyone about my power, Reid,” he explained quietly, his tone deceptively soft. “I didn’t have to remind them to fear me, cousin. That’s what actions do. They speak for you. The second you use words, cousin, is the second you show the world you have no power.”

  Reid suppressed his fury. The cunt had tried to act tough, but after what Thames just said he was aware how fucking ridiculous he looked now.

  This guy was so easy to piss off, even after all these years. Before, it would have satisfied Thames to see it, but now he just felt cautious.

  He looked past his cousin, took in Rebecca who was now off the porch and standing in the darkness, like she was trying to blend into the background. A strange feeling came over him then. He didn’t know what prompted him to look up at the bedroom window of the second floor. Maybe his mind had caught the faintest movement. The second his eyes connected to the window, he barely made out the outline of a little boy staring out at them.

  Kane.

  Thames felt his heart skip a beat and goose bumps run down his arms. The strangest most melancholy feeling came over him, along with a cold darkness that made him uneasy.

  He tore his gaze away from the window and took a wary step back.

  He didn’t understand it, but he sensed something was amiss.

  “See you around, Thames,” Reid said, a blank expression on his face.

  Thames didn’t respond.

  He turned around and ran.

  The Hole

  Thunder continued to rumble overhead, and lightning flashed, lighting up the darkening skies. Soaked, cold and shaking with terror, the boys ran into the forest. Not far in, Conor grabbed Dominic and slowed to a stop, forcing him to stop with him.

  “Listen,” he said hastily, “that guy knows where Max is. He knows, Dom. I have to go back.”

  “No,” Dom countered, shaking his head fiercely. “You can’t go back, Conor. He’s bad!”

  “Dom, you have to find Jem and go for help –”

  “Something’ll happen to you, Conor. I can’t do that.”

  Frustrated, Conor stepped closer to Dom and seethed, “You’re not listening, Dom. That guy knows where Max is. I need to follow him. I can find him. I need to find him!” His voice broke with emotion.

  Max was out there, somewhere, scared and frightened.

  Dominic was crying now. “What if something happens to you?”

  “Nothing will happen to me, I promise.”

  “You don’t know that –”

  “He’s out there, Dom!” Conor wept. “He needs me. I know he does. Max needs me! He’s counting on me!”

  It was all Max ever wanted: to count on someone to be there when he needed them. Conor couldn’t let him down.

  “Stop wasting time,” Conor said, pushing Dom back now. “Go find Jem. Then get help.”

  Saturated in rain, Dominic stared pleadingly at Conor, hoping he’d change his mind, but Conor stood unwavering.

  “It’s down to you and Jem,” Conor said with finality. “You both have to go back and get help. We’re counting on you. But I have to be here. I have to.”

  He had to.

  He did.

  He felt it in his bones.

  Bracing himself, Dom finally stiffened a nod and turned around, running further into the bush in the direction Jem had been.

  Conor wasted no time returning to the trail along the cliff. He spotted the man straightaway and kept himself hidden behind the trees. His breaths were coming out in clouds now as the temperature continued to drop.

  The man walked the trail, hands still in his pockets, and Conor followed, thankful for the rain because it drowned out the twigs snapping beneath his drenched shoes.

  Not far along the trail, the man made an abrupt turn and waded into the bush, feet from where Conor hid. Heart in his throat, Conor ducked down into a bush, pressing his body against the tree, distinctly aware the man was an arm’s length away. His footsteps halted, too close for comfort. Aware the man was on the other side of the tree he was hiding behind, Conor held the breath in his lungs, his entire body on pins and needles.

  Then the man move
d. He strode past him, moving in a linear direction. Conor skated around the tree, ducking his head out quickly to have a look at him. He waited for thunder to move. When it rumbled in the sky, he stepped away from the tree and hid behind another one, moving closer behind the man.

  It was like that for a while. With careful manoeuvring, Conor followed the man traipsing ahead of him, going through dense bush like he knew where he was going. He knew the lay of the land. In fact, as they moved, Conor noticed how easy it was to follow because there was sort of a trail made here, the way an animal made tracks routinely cutting through the same path.

  Conor had moments of doubt whether he should follow as he trailed him carefully. He felt goose bumps running along his body. His instincts were constantly screaming for him to halt and turn back, to seek safety and return to what he knew.

  But he couldn’t do that.

  This man knew Max was little. He’d called Jem mouthy, too. He’d been watching them. How else did he know those things? Plus, it was evident in the way he stared at Conor, eyes smiling like he knew. God, he knew.

  The thunder rumbled overhead again, and Conor continued, following the path, then hiding behind a tree. This time the thunder took longer to come. He ducked his head out, trying to make out the green jacket that was now blending a little too much in the bush as the man moved further ahead.

  Resting his head against the tree, Conor took a few deep breaths, realizing he had to move. He could not wait for the thunder every time. The rain was loud, he consoled himself. It was pounding on the trees, the wind was rustling the leaves and branches. There was a lot of noise as it was. The man wouldn’t hear him.

  Conor moved, stepping over broken branches, moving alongside the evident trail. But as he continued, his head twisting in front of him and around, he could no longer see the man. He walked faster, staring ahead, trying to catch up, but still, he could no longer see the man. It didn’t make sense. Had the man stepped off his own tracks? Conor came to a stop, heart beating in his ears now as he twisted around, looking around the bush in search of the large man.

  “You want to join your friend?”

  The voice came quietly from behind him.

  Conor wasn’t quick enough. He stepped forward, but a hand grabbed at the collar of his sweater and yanked him back with sudden force. Conor’s throat burned as he fell to the ground, breath knocked out of him, his hands already grabbing at his collar. But he was being dragged violently through the bush now, and the collar was digging into his neck and he couldn’t breathe.

  He kicked his legs out, twisting his body around, but he wasn’t quick enough. The hand let go of his sweater and grabbed at his head, shoving it back. Conor’s head slammed into the ground as a large weight pressed over his chest, keeping him down in place.

  It was the man’s knee, and it was digging harshly into his chest, right over Conor’s heart. His hand was now swallowing Conor’s face, covering his eyes. Conor’s nails clawed at the man’s arm, but it was covered in that thick jacket.

  “Let me go!” he screamed.

  But the man didn’t let him go. He kept his hand pressed against his face, and he added a bit more weight onto his chest, making Conor shriek in pain.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” the man said. “You followed me here. I gave you a chance to run away, but you’re so eager to join your friend. He’s gone, you know. You were never going to see him again.”

  “No!” Conor screamed, crying now. “Let him go, please! Take me. Take me instead.”

  “Such a brave boy.”

  Conor sobbed, his heart beating through his chest like a jackhammer now because he didn’t want Max with this man. He didn’t want him to hurt. Until that very moment, he’d never given much light to how much he’d cared for him. Max was his little buddy. He had looked up to him, and Conor had made the choice to come here, to play that stupid game. It was Conor’s fault, and it wasn’t right for someone else to pay for his mistakes.

  “Take me,” he repeated. “Take me, please.”

  “I’m taking you regardless,” the man said gruffly. “Don’t get your hopes up. You’re not seeing your little friend. He’s gone now. He’s far away and you’re never going to find him, but I’m taking you somewhere else, you just wait and see what we have in store for you.”

  Conor continued to struggle as the man rattled on. In an effort to distract, one hand still clawed in vain at his arm, but his other hand discreetly slipped into his back pocket. He grabbed his old man’s pocketknife, pulling it out and trying his damn hardest to flick it open. His fingers pulled at the blade, trying to separate it from its locked position. In desperation, his middle finger rested under the blade to prevent it from snapping closed. A searing pain flitted through Conor as he opened it, the blade cutting into him the whole way. He didn’t hear it, but he knew it’d snapped open in a straight position.

  Now he gripped the handle and in one quick swing, he plunged it deeply into the man’s hand. Conor felt the knife poke through the man’s hand, its tip digging into Conor’s mouth. It cut straight through his bottom lip only briefly as the man screamed. The weight on his chest eased as the man buckled back in pain, and Conor rolled out from under him and quickly jumped to his feet. He took a step forward, but the man’s other hand grabbed at his leg. Conor fell forward to the ground, kicking back quickly, managing just barely to get ahead of the man. He took off again, dizzied by the pain in his mouth. Aware the man was right behind him, adrenaline spiked through Conor as he ran in any given direction.

  Desperate to get ahead, he didn’t care where he was going. He was getting as far away as he could get, but he heard the man’s curses as he chased him, sometimes getting so close he could feel the tips of the man’s fingers as he reached out for him.

  If he grabbed him again, Conor knew he wouldn’t make it out again.

  One little slip up in the dense bush and he would get caught.

  In the distance, Conor heard the sound of the rapids and knew he was drawing closer to the river. Like a kick in the ass, he heaved forward, running straight to it as the man shouted behind him.

  This was it.

  Now or never.

  He was too late to brake, and if he did, show was over.

  Conor ran to the edge of the cliff. His breaths came out fast, his heart raced through his chest, fear shot up his spine as he made that final push forward.

  The running water grew louder and louder.

  He saw the break in the trees.

  He saw the trail and the cliff drop.

  Conor grunted, shut his eyes and soared over the edge.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thames

  He stopped at the threshold of Penny’s room to watch her sleep. He’d read to her before bed. He’d even tucked her in and kissed her pretty little face, smelling the scent of her strawberry shampoo, treasuring the feel of her soft skin. Seeing her helped taper the unease he felt in his chest.

  It wasn’t enough, though.

  He stepped into the room and took a seat on the floor beside her bed. She was sleeping on the very edge, her head close to his. He ran a finger down her angelic face. Suddenly overcome with emotion, he swallowed hard and dropped his forehead to hers. He breathed her in, his baby girl, his love.

  He wanted to tell her so many things in that moment. He wanted to say, I love you, I always loved you, I always thought of you. I wish I’d seen you grow. I wish I’d been a father and not a fuck up. I wish I’d seen you cry, crawl, walk, talk. I wish I’d wrapped your little hand around my finger. I wish I was a better man, for you, for your mother. I wish I can make up for all the years I missed. Please, give me this opportunity. Please, love me.

  Letting out an uneasy breath, he kissed her forehead and left the room.

  Minutes later he was sitting on the edge of their bed, inches from Charlotte’s sleeping body. He stared down at his hands in the dark as he battled the storm of sorrow within him.

  When was he going to feel no
rmal?

  He was tempted to have yet another shower, but he resisted. Something about the hot water soothed him. Made him feel like he was washing his sins away, forgetting the atrocities he almost told Charlotte about. It was always at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to confide in her so much just so he couldn’t feel the weight of it all.

  She could say she loved him all she wanted; he knew there’d be nothing but disgust in her eyes if he told her what he had done. What Holden had forced him to do. What Thames had to do to maintain his reputation.

  I killed men.

  I hurt men.

  I watched life bleed from countless eyes.

  Heard their pleas.

  I still hear them.

  Turns out, killing Billy had been the easy part of his entire ordeal.

  He tried to feel the stir of his old self, but nothing came.

  He wanted to believe Charlotte was right. That he could wade out of this darkness little by little, but he felt so submerged in it, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t think he’d ever leave it. How could he when the darkness was in him?

  Maybe Holden coming here all that while ago deterred his progress. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel stressed out dealing with him. He was angry more than anything.

  When the time was right, Holden would be dealt with.

  Right now, he couldn’t get his mind off Reid, off Rebecca, off that little boy staring at him from the window.

  The little boy reminded him too much of…

  Slowly, he started to breathe right, and his chest loosened. His entire body felt heavy and tired. He slid in next to Charlotte. She didn’t even budge as he wrapped her arm around his middle. She was so soft, so fragile. You forget how soft a woman is in prison. You also forget how detrimental a woman is in a man’s life. A woman was capable of taming a monster with the gentlest touch.

  And God, he loved her so much, it hurt.