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Conor Thames (Blackwater Boys Book 1)

Page 23

by R. J. Lewis


  She helped me up, tugging me up the stairs while I reluctantly pulled back. She gave me a firm look, a look that made my insides clench in worry. She wasn’t going to be delicate if I refused. Relenting, I let her take me into the bedroom and sit me down on the bed.

  “Stay up here,” she demanded. “When we hear something, we’ll let you know.”

  I forced a nod and waited for her to leave. The second the door closed, I jumped to my feet and paced. There was a storm inside my mind. I blamed myself for last night. If I’d just kept him in the house – if I had just talked – he wouldn’t have run after him.

  Jem was right.

  This was my fault.

  Collapsing into the bed, I wrapped the blankets around me and cried into them.

  *

  I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. Most of the day, maybe. The sun had past the window, and it was darker now.

  The mattress sank with the weight of a body. I opened my sore eyes and met Conor’s gaze. My heart stopped and I let in a sharp breath. He looked wrecked, but he was here, and not in prison. I sat up quickly and grabbed at his arm, crying into his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” I bellowed. “I’m so sorry.”

  He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly to him. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

  “I should have made you stay.”

  “Dove, nothing could have made me stay. I lost control. This was all me.”

  His voice was rough. He sounded sad and distraught. I pulled away. He was so tired. His face was all kinds of wrong. Letting me go, he turned his back to me, sitting on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands. One hand was bandaged up around the knuckles. It had become physical.

  “Conor?”

  I wrapped my arms around his back, pressing my face against the back of his neck. I breathed him in, all his musk and all his stress. His shoulders were tight, but he wasn’t shaking.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “They let me go. Locke spun it, said I drove too fast and Billy’s taillights were out until the final second. Said I ran out there to pull him out in case he was hurt. Fucking stupid. They know I’m spewing bullshit. They’ll probably charge me for reckless driving…if I’m lucky. I’ll go out on bail when it happens and Locke will fight for me, like he usually does.”

  “I wish you would have just stayed.”

  He let out a long sigh. “I got a sickness, Charlotte. I think when you go to college, you should leave this town behind and don’t ever come back.”

  I shut my eyes, pressing my face harder into his shoulder. “I don’t want to do that, Conor.”

  “I think it might be better if you left a while.”

  I didn’t understand where this was coming from. I felt panicky and on the verge of crying.

  “You promised you weren’t going anywhere.”

  This time he gently pulled my hands away and stood up. Rubbing his face, he strolled to the window and looked out. I saw the tension lines in his muscle. I felt his weariness and I broke for him because he had crossed the point of no return and lashed out. Now he was deep in remorse, realizing the consequences of his actions and how much that was going to cost him.

  “At least this isn’t a year down the track,” he muttered. “At least, you’re not so far down the rabbit hole you can’t get out.”

  “Conor –”

  “I’m not good for you like this, dove. I shouted at you.”

  “Billy was outside. Of course that reaction was warranted.”

  He whipped around, looking bewildered. “Stop justifying my behaviour, Charlotte.”

  “I’m not trying to.” I shrugged and then collapsed in a sitting position on the bed. I felt weak all over. Was he trying to break up with me already?

  “This isn’t healthy,” he continued.

  “What is healthy?” I countered. “Everyone’s got their own baggage. Couples hide their sins from the world all the time.”

  “You haven’t sinned, pup. You’ve been nothing but perfect. I’m the fucking problem here.”

  “We’ll fix it.”

  I could hear my own optimism and could hardly believe it was coming from me, but when it was about Conor, I wasn’t prepared to let go. No way. Nuh-uh.

  “You’ll turn into my mother,” he said, shocking me. “Just like I’m turning into my dad. You’ll have enough of my shit.”

  It was the first time I’d heard Conor’s true self-loathing. Before, it’d been sprinkled or randomly shown. This time, he was letting it all out. His deepest fears of inadequacy, of believing he could never be tamed. He didn’t feel deserving of good things because every time he fucked up, he realized how much he was hurting the people he loved around him.

  I wanted to go to him and hold him. Mostly, I wanted to tell him that I appreciated what he did, chasing after Billy for me. It wasn’t the best solution, but his immediate response was to take care of someone he knew was a problem in my life. Even though his actions were radical, they weren’t driven by selfishness.

  The only way he would understand this was if I opened up to him.

  After what he did, I was certain he deserved it.

  “Billy touched me,” I finally said, shuddering. I felt an immediate reaction in my body. Of violation and entrapment. My eyes felt heavy with tears. “It started day dot. He made me think he was consoling me about my father’s death. He’d lay in bed with me, and hold me, and then he started to touch himself.”

  I couldn’t look at Conor, though I heard him shuffling closer. I felt his gaze penetrating into me, and it was too much. I had to shut my eyes.

  “The first time, he physically laid over me with his weight and masturbated against my back. He’d never actually touch me, though. He’d just force me still and say things in my ear.”

  “Like what?” Conor’s voice was quiet, tentative.

  “That he wanted me to want him. He’d ask me to let him touch me. He said I was perfect, that he wanted to be inside me, but I’d have to want it too. That if I wanted to stop him from forcing me down, I’d have to let him in me. Things like that.”

  The mattress dipped and Conor’s arm wrapped around me. He pulled me into his chest and I panted against him, hating the wounds I’d re-opened.

  It wasn’t always the sexual aspect that got to me with Billy. It was that he would block my way out and force me in a prison of hell. That helplessness fucked with my head one too many times. It was the reason I hated locked doors.

  “My point is,” I finally said, gathering my wits. “Don’t feel bad for what you did. You just went about it wrong.”

  I finally opened my eyes. He picked me up and settled me into his lap. I wrapped my legs around, straddling him. He had calmed further, but his gaze was pained by my revelation.

  “I’ll take care of him,” he promised. “You won’t ever have to worry about that guy again after today.”

  “With you, Conor, I haven’t had to worry about anything.”

  He stroked my face, revering me. I loved that look. I loved how wanted he made me feel.

  “Dove,” he finally said, voice strained, “you don’t have to keep it.”

  “Keep what?”

  His hand slowly rested against my stomach. His face was raw with emotion. He blinked hard to rid it. My body tightened in response.

  “Did your mother tell you?” I asked.

  I could forgive Megan for letting that slip, but not Jem. He pissed me off too much.

  “No one told me,” he replied. “When they were interrogating me, I went inside my own little head and thought of the way you’ve been acting. I couldn’t understand the mood swings and vomiting, until I remembered Ember acted a similar way when she was pregnant with Lily.”

  I wrung my hands together, nervous. “I didn’t know how you’d react if I told you.”

  “Do I look like I’m flipping out?”

  “Well, no, but…that’s not fair, Conor, you’re pretty unpredictable.” />
  He smiled softly. “Not when it comes to you. You make me feel grounded, Charlotte. Sometimes I think I can actually be normal when I’m with you. Point is, you’ve got college and a big move, and you shouldn’t let that go because of your situation. If you want to terminate, I support you, so long as I’m by you when it happens.”

  I swallowed, holding back tears. “What if I want to keep it? Will you want it?”

  “Yes.” His answer was immediate.

  The certainty in his voice made me cry.

  “Can you be good, Conor?” I pleaded, grabbing at his hands. “You have to stay out of trouble. You have to be there because…I don’t think I can do it alone.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I’ll do anything to make sure you’re taken care of. That’s a promise.”

  “No more arrests, Conor.”

  He hugged me to him, squeezing me around the waist and kissing me so hard, I felt it everywhere.

  “No more arrests,” he promised.

  I didn’t know why this time I believed it. I guessed it was because there wasn’t that shadow that always lurked behind his eyes.

  I had to have a bit of faith, and…hope.

  Hope was what it took to silence my fears.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thames

  He parked the truck in front of his uncle’s black building auto repair shop and stared at the front, feeling his gut wrench. The bastard had changed literally nothing. This was exactly the same place Thames had spent his childhood in.

  Stepping out, he headed in the direction of the garage. He had wanted to believe his uncle would run it to the ground, but as he inspected the open garage on his approach, he found it impeccable and neat. The six lift stations were being used, suspending the vehicles six feet high. The repair pit had a car waiting. High end toolboxes were at each bay, a different mechanic was working every station. He even recognized a few of them. Dave hadn’t fired the older workers, after all. He could hear the air compressor and the air tools running from out back.

  This was a trip down memory lane for sure. Only this one was a neater, cleaner version.

  The office door opened before he got to it, and Dave poked his fat head out, staring right at him.

  “Conor,” he said, surprised. “Saw you out front. Come in.”

  Thames ignored his welcoming tone. He kept his face passive as he entered the office. His eyes quickly scanned the room, noting once again, how nothing had changed. His old man’s pictures were still hung up on the wall, some of Thames as a kid, some of his mother even, along with certifications from Auto institutes.

  “I was hoping you’d come,” Dave said, rounding the desk to take a seat. His skin was red, his beer gut hanging over his belt. He was almost unrecognizable. Once upon a time, this man had been ripped, strong, and capable. Now he looked like he’d have a heart attack bending over just to tie his shoe.

  It was hard for Thames to believe he was operating a chop shop on the side when he could hardly maintain his cholesterol.

  “I really wanted to see you,” he carried on, his blue eyes looking sympathetic.

  “Nothing stopped you from coming around,” Thames replied hollowly.

  “I can sense the bad blood, Conor. I know when I’m not wanted, and it’s been killing me.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about that. I’m not here to talk about feelings, old man. I’m here to tell you to fire Billy Parson. I want him out of town with absolutely no fucking incentive to kick around. You’ve got your goons on the ground, all over town, doing your dirty work. I want them to take care of him and I want it to be known he is not welcome on these streets a second longer. If you don’t do this for me, Dave, I’ll come around one night and torch your fucking shop to the ground. I am not playing around, you understand?”

  Dave’s face contorted to shock. “This isn’t my shop, Conor. This is our shop.”

  Oh, my fuck. This fucker was going to do this now?

  “You took it from under me,” Thames gritted out. “Imagine walking out of prison to find out your dad’s dead and his brother took over his place.”

  “I welcomed you.”

  “Why would I come? To work under you? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Dave?” He fumed for a moment, pissed. “Look, this shit’s not why I’m here. For all I care, keep this fucking place. I’m past that now. I’m telling you –”

  “You want Billy Parson gone, I heard you,” he interrupted. “But I can’t have him gone, Conor.”

  “You want a death wish?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “What the fuck isn’t simple about what I’m telling you to do.”

  Dave looked uncomfortable. He leaned back in his chair, inhaling slowly. “The boy is disturbed.”

  Yeah, no fucking kidding. If Thames had learned what he’d done to Charlotte earlier, he wouldn’t have chased after him in the dark and made his intentions known. He would have waited in the shadows and killed the fucker and that would have been the end of that.

  But now Thames had to think outside the fucking box, which wasn’t necessarily his forte. He had spent too long using his fists as a solution and having now to let this punk pussy go unscathed left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “I think I can help him,” Dave carefully went on, avoiding Thames’ glare. “I’m not sending him away.”

  “You know what he did to his stepsister?”

  “He told me.”

  Thames tilted his head to the side. Was he hearing this asshole clearly?

  “You want a fucking pervert walking these streets?” he seethed.

  “He’s found an outlet, Conor.”

  “Fucking whores?”

  “He’s been better.”

  “So, why’s he still showing up at my fucking house after hours then?”

  Now Dave’s lips flattened. He sighed and nodded. “He’s got a thing for Charlotte Miles, but he hasn’t approached her, Conor. He hasn’t spoken to her in almost a year. That’s him consciously making an effort –”

  “He violated her.”

  “Who knows what really went on?”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “Maybe she wanted him and regretted it after. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she claims it to be.”

  Thames hands fisted. Dear fuck, he never wanted to hurt someone as much as he wanted to hurt this fucker. He felt the tremors in his body return, and Dave noticed.

  “Are you going to hurt me, Conor?” he asked, sternly. “You gonna hurt an old man? How’s that going to look for you? You want another charge under your belt? I’m already talking to the police about dropping any charges against you. Even Billy agreed not to say a word, but I can only do that if you don’t take another step forward.”

  Was he threatening him? Thames didn’t take well to threats. He didn’t like when someone assumed power over him. Unless it was Charlotte’s mouth wrapped around his dick, he wasn’t going to bow to anyone.

  No matter what.

  “I don’t give a fuck about what’s going to happen to me,” he said slowly. “I’m only interested in keeping my girl safe from that fuck. He’s a predator –”

  “He’s my son.”

  Thames mouth clamped shut. Shock bristled inside him, but more so than that, there was confusion too.

  “This was before Eileen. I didn’t cheat on my wife. Alec and I fooled around with endless women at the time. Your father wasn’t the most faithful man of a bunch.”

  “This isn’t about my dad,” Thames retorted.

  “No, it certainly isn’t. Billy’s mother died a little over a year ago. Breast cancer. She left behind a note for me, told me where I could find him. He was living with what he assumed was his dad, but that man’s nothing but an abusive tool. He fucked with Billy. He’s disturbed for a reason.”

  “Couldn’t give a fuck about the reason.”

  “Well, I do.” Dave’s face went bright red. “I missed his whole life.”

/>   “See a therapist, old man. I really don’t care.”

  “I don’t think you understand the love of a child, Conor. I don’t think you have it in you, either. But the second I laid eyes on that boy, I knew he was mine. Reid went to that house too. It was right around the time Charlotte Miles moved in and he wanted her something fierce. Reid paid her whole tuition from under her nose and he didn’t even want her to know. That’s the kind of son I raised. That St Helen’s don’t come cheap. Why do you think he’s so pissed when you came along and took that girl from him? Why do you think he lashed out so bad?

  “Now that shit is history. I’m not going to dredge it up because at the end of the day, a woman wants what she wants. But when it comes to Billy, when it comes to either of my sons, it’s personal, and I will not skip a beat waging war on any fucker who comes in their way.”

  Thames narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m scared of war?”

  “I think you forget how long you’ve been in prison. Life went on, Conor. The streets aren’t yours anymore. You can’t frighten people when you’re behind bars, and they tend to forget what made you so menacing. After all, how could you be tough when you’ve shown countless times how penetrable you are? The police always catch you, and you can’t hold yourself back from your crazy impulses. You’ve shown us your weaknesses, and I think Billy did a good job revealing them to everyone. And all the while, you’ve been so obsessed thinking he’s trying to get to Charlotte, but it was you he wanted to undo.”

  “Sure, old man, you done monologuing?”

  This wasn’t a fucking mystery novel. He didn’t need the antagonist to start spouting these revelations. He honestly didn’t give a rat’s FUCK Billy was Dave’s son. Seriously, fucker, there were no fucks given. It sounded like a cute reunion for daytime Maury, but in Blackwater, this shit was soft-core paternity shit. If Thames really wanted to give a rat’s fuck, he might have started his own Blackwater rag titled Trailer Park Daily.

  “You finished?” Thames asked, arching his brow. “Because I have places to be, man. What I’m demanding is straight fucking forward. Either you remove the cunt out of Blackwater, or I’ll do it myself. But I have to warn you, he won’t go unharmed.”

 

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