by R. J. Lewis
“You’re really nervous about something,” Ellen remarked, studying me like I was some rat in a lab. “What’s on your mind, Charlotte? Is it Conor’s dick? How big is he, anyway? I heard he’s big, but I personally never had the guts to ask the women he’s with. You know, I think Ms Landry banged him. He bangs older women; did you know that?”
No, I didn’t know that.
I hoped she was wrong.
Ms Landry was my next semester English teacher.
This town was too small.
“Charlotte, please,” she begged. “Tell me something.”
We were short staffed. I didn’t have time for her shit. I whipped up a drink in record time and slammed it on the counter in front of a tall suited man. My head craned up and my eyes bulged out of my head.
He was hot.
Not Conor hot, but seriously hot.
And extremely familiar looking too, but I couldn’t place him.
Black tousled hair, pinstriped suit, lips full and red. His eyes were deep brown, his jaw squared and chiselled. He looked like a hotter version of Henry Cavill, if that was possible.
And I seriously slammed the coffee in front of him like it was a jackhammer. Some of the coffee spilled over the edges. I quickly grabbed a few napkins and dried around it.
“I’m so sorry,” I stuttered. I was pretty sure the drink was missing an inch now. “I can make you another one.”
He watched me, a small smirk accompanying his lips. “It’s fine.”
Ellen stopped by my side, awestruck. “Hi, Mr Locke. I’ll make you another one. Just give me a minute.”
She took off while his name slowly sank into me. I knew that name. Without having acknowledged her, he continued looking at me, his eyes sweeping me curiously.
“You were the one with Conor last night.” He wasn’t asking. It was more like…he was confirming.
I blinked. “Why do you want to know?”
“I already know now.”
“Okay.” How the hell else was I supposed to respond?
“You’ve known him how long?”
I shook my head. “Not long.”
“How old are you?” Why was he interrogating me? Why did I feel compelled to answer him?
A little affronted by his question, I retorted, “Old enough.”
Now he looked amused. “Legal.”
Again, not a question.
I nodded once because his eyes dizzied me, and I was under some spell. Potion ingredients:
expensive cologne
hot coffee
sexy-as-sin man.
I shook off the feeling. “Am I at an inquisition I don’t know about?”
“I’m just making sure Conor didn’t fuck up,” he replied. “Again.”
I narrowed my eyes curiously. “You look out for him or something?”
“I make sure I don’t have to look out for him,” he corrected me. He had a very authoritative tone, like he was used to being in charge. Kind of like Conor, but Conor made his command known by being direct and loud, whereas this guy silently owned it.
“You stop the problem before it happens,” I stated, dissecting his words.
“Precisely.”
“You think I’m the problem?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
“He did nothing wrong.” I was firm with my words. “He was good to me.”
He had a ghost of a smile as he watched me. His eyes ran down my face and to my neck where my pulse sat. “Glad to hear you were taken care of.”
His underlying meaning was not lost on me.
“You know what I meant,” I said, fighting the heat in my cheeks.
His dark eyes studied me, looking me over in a way that was far from decent.
“Does Conor know you’re here?” I then asked, carefully.
“No,” he admitted. “To be honest, I just wanted to understand his gibberish this morning. You’re not really his type. My type, on the other hand…” his words trailed, and empty space filled it.
Jesus. He couldn’t seriously be hinting that…
I raised my chin, bolder as I fixed him with a firm stare. “I hope you enjoy your day, Mr Locke.”
Sexy, he may be, but I wasn’t into a suited man, nor any man that wasn’t Conor Thames. He ruined me.
Locke looked impressed, narrowing his eyes at me curiously.
Ellen, obviously having stolen someone else’s drink – because there’s no way in hell she made it so quick – placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. “There you go, Mr Locke.” She smiled at him, her Invisalign braces shining bright under the overhead bulbs.
Instead of taking her drink, he took the one I made him. “Good day, ladies.”
As he walked out, that goddamn suit plastered to him in the most beautifully tailored way, Ellen nudged me with her elbow. “How are you catching the attention of the Blackwater Boys? Teach me your ways.”
I looked at her confused. “He was a Blackwater Boy?”
“Think they look only like Conor?”
“Well, I saw Jem once.”
Ellen smirked. “Max Locke looked like them once.”
“Then what?”
“Then money. Lots of it.”
Jesus. That was why he was familiar. I’d seen his face in the papers, heard his name spoken. I shook my head once. “How many more of these guys are there?”
“Just one. Dominic, but he’s in prison.”
“Unsurprising.”
She chuckled dryly. “Dominic’s got another eleven years on his sentence, and he wasn’t even responsible for his crimes.”
“How do you know that?”
She looked to the entrance door and shrugged. “My dad was his lawyer. I saw these guys around a lot. Dominic took the fall for Jem, but he would never admit that.”
“Took the fall for what?”
“Some seriously shady shit. These guys don’t abide by the law, Charlotte. They’re always up to no good. Reid should have filled you in on this stuff.”
“You think Reid’s part of it?”
She laughed like that was funny. “Uh, no. Conor loathes him and his dad. You guys were together for a year and he never told you a thing?”
I shook my head slowly. “Nothing.”
I’d known Conor a lick of the time I knew Reid, and I was already aware of his chop shop.
Maybe Reid was embarrassed by Conor and didn’t want to be affiliated with him in any way. But, then again, Reid was always trying to be the coolest guy around. You’d think he would have bragged about that relationship.
All of it screamed bad blood.
I elbowed Ellen playfully. “Here I thought you lived a sheltered life. Why are you begging for juicy gossip when you know the most out of the both of us?”
“I’ve never seen Conor Thames kiss a girl like that in the open the morning after he’s been with her, and I’ve lived here my entire life. Blackwater may seem like a dump to you, but I live and breathe this shit.”
As I caught the curious gazes of other coffee goers, I muttered, “You and most of the people in this town.”
“Wouldn’t you?” she asked. “Be honest with yourself.”
Yeah, I would have. There was no denying that. In a city, there was mob royalty and notorious criminals. There were people with more money than they knew what to do with. But being among such a huge population, those people always felt a million miles away. They were untouchable. No easy access. You couldn’t show up at a Halloween party like I had and come face to face with one that easily. And if you did? Good luck getting his head to turn to you.
Conor’s head didn’t just turn to you. It stayed on you.
And everyone had witnessed it then just like they did now.
“Was he your rebound?” she pressed, never giving it a break. “Because that has to go down in the history book as the best rebound after a break-up I’ve ever heard.”
But I hadn’t officially broken up. Ugh. I rubbed my face, exasperated and alr
eady splitting apart with worry. I had to fist my hands to stop them from shaking.
“This town is too small,” I whispered, tortured by the random looks strangers were giving me.
Word travelled. It was insane how nosey people were.
I knew straightaway Reid would have discovered the truth by now.
*
When he came through the door, I felt my stomach drop. I had only an hour left on my shift and was beginning to think I would make it unscathed, but there he was, strolling into the coffee shop with the angriest expression on his face.
He was doing this now?
While I worked?
Wouldn’t you, Charlotte?
I shook straightaway. I was going to vomit. I didn’t know whether to cry or fold my hands together and plead for forgiveness. Neither of those reactions suited me. I wasn’t the victim here. I had to tough it out, gulp the tears and accept whatever abuse he was going to throw my way. I deserved it, after all.
I had it coming, would own it, but I was also scared too.
I was scared that he was hurting, and I was scared that I would spend tonight having to come to grips with the kind of person I was. I hoped Conor was true to his word. I hoped he would be there for me to hold me and take away the fear.
The customer I was serving went mute, following my line of sight. She didn’t even look pissed when I’d stopped responding to her. She might as well have produced some popcorn and thrown it everywhere, because everyone’s heads turned and watched the start of Blackwater’s Days Of Our Lives.
He stopped feet from the counter, standing behind the woman with his arms crossed. He was wearing the same clothes he wore last night. His hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept a second. He burned me with that filthy glare. I simply nodded once at him, understanding.
Turning my attention to the customer, I said shakily, “I’m sorry, what’s your order?”
She glanced behind her shoulder at Reid and then over at me. Her eyes were wide as she responded, “You know, I’m gonna think about it.”
She went to the pick-up station and turned her body to us, her hip resting against the counter. Heads followed his movements. Even the elderly spectated, ready for the smackdown. Literally no one was going to be discreet about this.
Then Reid came my way, a wall of fury, lips twisted ready to scream my damnation. I braced myself, breathing heavy, my eyes shining with tears.
I was such a fuck-up.
I’m so sorry.
Just as he opened his mouth to scream, the tendons in his neck bulging, the entrance door slammed open, the bell ringing tumultuously, cutting through the tense silence. In slow motion, I looked to the door and watched as Conor ran in, his shoes slamming against the floor like thunder. For some reason, his shirt was off, his chest was gleaming with sweat and…oil? His face was dirty, mud was caked in his hair, flakes fell as he roared toward me. He stopped in front of Reid, not having bothered to register his existence. It was so quick, my brain checked out, but my heart roared. With his sole focus on me, he slammed his hands on the counter, leaned over and kissed me harshly.
And, just like that, the world fell away.
It was blackness.
My eyes shut to his touch. I felt my knees go weak. Felt the tremors in my hands as I grabbed him around the back of his neck and kissed him back possessively. His taste intoxicated me. He would do this to me every time: shut the world out with his touch, mute the hate, the anger, the viciousness I’d been subjected to, and he would claim me like I was part of him and he needed me to breathe.
He tasted me, viciously, passionately, like he didn’t have enough time and needed to make the most of it. He fucked me with his mouth the way his body fucked me last night; mercilessly owning my being, and I let him. Nothing else mattered.
Pulling away suddenly, he grabbed me by the arms and stared at me. The cheekiness was all gone. His expression wasn’t one I’d seen before.
“I’m about to go back to prison,” he panted, his eyes searching mine. “I may have fucked up just a little bit. You’re going to wait for me. Okay?”
What in the…
I opened my mouth, shell-shocked and trying to absorb his words. “You’re going to prison?”
“Yeah.”
“Again?”
“Yeah.”
“Because of Dan?”
He laughed, this weird glee in his eyes. “Fuck the pharmacy boy, he’d never utter a word.”
“I don’t understand, Conor.”
“You don’t need to, Charlotte.”
But…But…
“We just met,” I whispered, sucking in a breath as my heart sank.
“I didn’t know you would happen.”
I didn’t know what he meant. I was in ruin; my hopes were dashed right after I’d given myself reason to have them in the first place.
He let go of one arm and rested his swollen hand against my cheek. His blue eyes glowed as he watched me, took me in like a picture he was trying to memorize. “Wait for me, dove.”
The entrance bell rang again, and a breathless officer bolted in, disrupting us. “Conor, for fuck’s sake, get the fuck on the ground!”
Conor kissed me again, a few seconds of bliss before he tore his mouth away and turned to the officer. He raised his hands up in the air, smirking at the cop. “Come on, Mathew, you used to run a lot faster than that.”
The officer, a middle-aged man with greying hair, looked pissed. He moved to Conor, his hand on his holstered gun. “Let’s just get this over with, okay?”
Two more officers stormed in and practically lunged at Conor. The women in the coffee shop did their dramatic gasps and the men watched enthusiastically as Conor was tackled to the ground right in front of me; positioned with his legs spread and his face pressed against the floor. He laughed loudly as the officers gathered around him, forcing him in place. He didn’t let them cuff him so easily. He was simply too strong, refusing to bring his hands together, amused when they breathed heavy over him. He was being a shithead because he immediately went slack, saying, “Come on, fellas, thought you were stronger. Has the police academy gone soft?”
The police loathed him. They twitched and cursed, and one even shook with barely contained rage. They forced him up, and he smiled lazily, catching sight of my now ex.
“Hey, Reid boy,” he mused. “You look like you’ve been fucked over.”
Reid didn’t look at him. He stared at the floor, waiting for them to take Conor away. The officers checked his pockets, and then did a quick pat down of him. All the while, Conor stared at me, his face softening, that cocky glint in his eye replaced with yearning.
“Wait for me,” he said again, an edge in his voice present. “No boys, dove. I’ll fucking kill them.”
My eyes never left his. Once he was in the clear, they steered him forcefully out of the coffee shop. The elderlies shook their head in disapproval; the men looked at him like he was their spirit animal; and the women swooned.
“Now that’s a piece of ass I’d sell my soul to taste,” the woman waiting grumbled under her breath.
“I’d come back as a mosquito in the next life if it meant one night with him,” another piped up nearby, biting her lip before slamming the keys of her laptop, like she’d been hit her with second wind.
A police car arrived on scene, stopped in front of the coffee shop, its lights still on. The middle-aged officer stood in front of him. Conor listened, his body relaxed as he spoke to him, and then he willingly climbed into the back of the car.
I couldn’t stop my legs from moving. I rounded the counter and sprinted past Reid and out of the shop. I was literally feet from the police car when it began driving away. I stopped and watched, holding my breath to stop my chest from caving in.
I didn’t see Conor Thames for eight months.
Chapter Six
Charlotte
It was the most eventful workday of my life, and it didn’t even end there when Conor was
forced out of the coffee shop, laughing like a madman.
No, Reid had to turn to me when I’d walked back in and loudly announce, “You’re a fucking slut.”
Ouch.
Like a punch to the chest. I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for the hurt I felt.
“I’m sorry –”
My words died as he stormed past me and out of the coffee shop, kicking the door with his boot.
Right on cue, Ellen had to say, “So, you didn’t break up with him.”
And just like that, my eyes filled with tears. I wanted to flee, wanted my legs to carry me as far away as I could go. I chose to stay. The only thing that gave me strength was the taste of Conor on my lips and his demand for me to wait for him.
He was gone and I was now left with the consequences of my actions.
It was the most awkward last hour of my life. I lousily watched the minutes wind down, and then I was out of there, ignoring the attention. The fresh air never felt so good on my hot face. My eyes burned with tears as I made it a few steps and stopped, shocked at what lay in front of me.
The bike I rode to Reid’s house yesterday was on the sidewalk on its side, the frame was bent, and the wheels were flat. I shook as I picked it up and inspected it. It was unroadworthy. I blinked back more tears, but some escaped. I sniffed as I tried to move it around pathetically.
Had Reid really done this? I didn’t think he had it in him. I couldn’t believe it, but the proof was in my hands, twisted and flat.
It was a shitty bike. I’d found it in the garage and my stepdad Paul said he’d taken it off the curb of a dumpster, and I could keep it. Of course, Devil gave me a hard time about it and used it for a few months to get a rise out of me, and when I didn’t give him the reaction he wanted, he left it in the garage for me to swipe. I bought a lock for it straightaway and Devil couldn’t touch it anymore. He didn’t mind; by then, he’d found other ways to hurt me…physically.
I felt queasy. Like a bullseye was on me now, and Reid was just another enemy. All his comrades would follow in his footsteps. Was this just the beginning?