Sucker for Payne

by Carrie Thomas

  “Here’s my number.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a food receipt I’d scribbled my digits down on during the last leg of my drive, just in case.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, taking the paper.

  “I need to get back,” I said, thinking of Willow.

  “I understand.” She looked up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Will you come back to visit?”

  “Yeah. I can do that. I’ll get this place fixed up for you.”

  “Conner, I don’t want you to come back for that.”

  “I know. I want to do it.”

  “Thank you for coming. I—it made me happy. And relieved. I’m glad to see you doing so well.”

  “Yeah, me too. We’ll be seeing each other soon. Okay?” Now that our first meeting was out of the way, I needed to see my girl. I wanted my normal surroundings. Being inside my mother’s home didn’t cause me to reminisce. In fact, I tried, but had trouble recalling hardly any childhood memories. It felt foreign to me, like I’d never lived there in the first place. All I could conclude was that it wasn’t my home and it never would be. My home was with Willow now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Willow

  The front door creaked, waking me up. I rolled over, facing the doorway of my bedroom, knowing Conner was about to enter. Nerves hit my belly all at once; percolating, as beads of sweat hit my skin. Dampness caused my legs to stick to the sheets.

  “Hey,” he said, doubt surrounding him like a golden light in the darkness.

  I turned the lamp on and sat up. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now.” He sighed.

  “What does that mean? Where have you been?”

  He took a seat at the end of my bed, caressing my bare foot that was peeking out from the blankets. “I went to see my mom.”

  My eyes broadened in surprise. That was the last thing I had pictured him saying. “Your mom?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “It was the weirdest thing. I just drove and drove, until I was parked outside her house.”

  “I’m sorry about Dana.” I hated to bring her up again, but I needed him to know that I’d never betray him. “I had no idea, Conner. I’ve tried to think about how to fix it. I’ve been so worried—”

  “Shh.” He pulled my legs toward him, until I was sitting on his lap. I waited, watching him cautiously for his explanation. “It’s okay. I’m okay with whatever happens.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah. You know, I’ve let people and events take control of my life for so long, I’ve doubted my purpose. Doubted the reason behind my life, and why I still had one. I’ve been so terrified of people finding out about my past . . .” His eyes shimmered. My gut tightened and the image of him was blurred by my own tears. “I was afraid they would think I hadn’t changed.” He wiped my tears, leaving his to roll down his cheeks.

  “But that’s not who you are.” I sniffed. “One mistake doesn’t define you, Conner. I know yours had detrimental consequences, but you have to accept that you are still living. I know you struggle with guilt. I can see it every day. Maybe you can do something with it though.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve been thinking about ways to help you. And maybe speaking out about driving intoxicated—being an advocate against it—will help heal you, while keeping someone else from making the same mistake. I feel like you’ve been dealing with it on your own for so long, you can’t see any further than the inside of your own head.”

  His brows tightened. “I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that. I don’t know if I could even do it, Wil. I don’t like people.”

  I smiled at his truthful response. “We can go slow.” I rubbed his arm. “I will do the research. We have to try, though. Stewing in the negative feelings will only breed more negativity. We can control the outcome here.”

  “You are the absolute best opportunity I’ve ever had.” He tugged on my hair. “Even though you hate me, I love you. And you’ve already said yes, so you’re stuck with me.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, black box. I knew what was in it, but it didn’t quell my excitement. I waited patiently as he opened the box, and pulled out a beautiful, two-karat, princess cut, diamond ring set in white gold.

  “I know I should have already had this when I asked you to marry me.” He gripped the ring so tight, the tips of his fingers were white. “But I want to give it to you now, and I don’t ever want you to take it off.” His head tilted, and his movement caused me to look up at him. “Not even when I piss you off, and you want to throw me out on my ass. Never, Willow.” He grabbed my left hand, pulling it into his lap. “I want it to be a part of you, a representation of me, and how I don’t ever want to be without you.”

  I gripped the pinky of his other hand in mine, and kissed his thumb. “I promise my left hand will never be without it.” He placed the ring on my finger, both of us realizing he’d guessed my size wrong. “Except for getting it sized.” I smirked. “I’m glad you’re home. I want to hear all about your time with your mom. But first, I want you to get some rest. Come to bed.”

  He slipped out of his clothes and slid next to me. I placed my head on his chest, relieved that he was truly okay. I knew the healing process would take some time, but he’d taken the first steps down the right path. And he’d taken them on his own, which I didn’t like so much, but I knew how important that was.

  I closed my eyes, feeling grateful that Conner had taken a horrible situation and turned it into the beginning process of finally healing the scar on his heart. I wished my place could have been beside him in that moment with his mother, but deep down, in the dead center of my soul, I knew my place was behind him; supporting him, not pushing. Holding him up. It wasn’t my place to do things for him, or take the brunt of his past decisions and mistakes. My place tonight, was to comfort him, and to let him know that no matter what he faced, I’d be there. I’d be behind him, always being the person waiting for him when he came home.

  I kissed his chest twice, and settled in for a peaceful night’s rest.

  ***

  It had taken two weeks, but once the charges had been brought forward for Mikey, we’d all learned that, in a strange turn of events, he was connected to Dana. As it turned out, Dana and Mikey had been in a relationship for years. The detectives had stopped by the gym to deliver the news, since there weren’t technically any charges we could file on our own. He hadn’t touched me that night, and any announcement Dana had made to the public would have to go through civil court, not criminal.

  We sat at the edge of the cage, along with Steele, as they laid out Dana’s plan for a perfect crime. She had followed Conner’s progress in prison, and fought tooth and nail for him not to make parole. Mikey advised she had written him a letter for the first time three months before Conner was released. She’d seduced him while he was behind bars, promising him a bright future when he got out.

  He also told them that while his feelings for Dana were real, and he believed hers to be as well, he noticed after a couple of months that she’d been obsessed with Conner. She constantly asked questions about him, and who he was around while in prison. Mikey told the police he’d threatened to end things with her after a while, and that was when she told him about her son’s death. Hearing the story made him angry. Even if Dana was pushing him around for ways to harm Conner, he ultimately wanted to do it because he loved her.

  After Mikey’s release, Dana continued to keep tabs on Conner. She knew when he was released, and what city he’d moved to. Knew where he lived and where he worked. According to Mikey, that was her whole reason for getting involved with the media. And while he swore to the police that it was Dana’s idea to harm me, Mikey had gone along with it because he believed Conner deserved to lose the one thing he loved, the same as his girlfriend had.

  It was apparent that Dana had problems far beyond what prison could solve; she needed to be in a mental institut
e. To concoct a plan to harm another human being, she was obviously off-balanced.

  While Conner and I hadn’t had to do anything other than give our statements, and get a restraining order against the pair of them, Navie would have to go to trial because of her involvement. I worried about her, and planned on being there every step of the way, just as she’d been there for me that night.

  The detectives explained that Navie’s testimony could be used to build a better case. But Conner flinched when they told us I might be subpoenaed as well. I didn’t want to have anything else to do with it, but if it meant punishing those who’d hurt my boyfriend and friend, I was willing to do it.

  When everything calmed down and life went back to a semi-normal pace, I made the mistake of searching Conner online, which brought up his mugshot, the trial, and the accident photos. It also brought forth a face to the young man who had lost his life.

  My curiosity level grew with each new article I read. And before I knew it, I’d spent more than half my day online. By that point, heaviness had gripped my body, filled with sadness for both Conner, the boy, and much to my surprise, Dana.

  I’d had so much anger for her buried deep inside, I didn’t think I could possibly feel bad for her. But the moment I saw her son, an instinct inside me that I didn’t even know I had, understood her level of sorrow. For her to have her own child taken from her, ripped from her life because of someone else’s carelessness…well, I couldn’t fathom the heartache. I completely comprehended that part of her soul, the one that felt like she needed to do something to punish the person responsible.

  I wouldn’t share my newfound perspective with Conner, as after seeing his reaction to her outing him told me he already grasped it. I was the one who was slow on the uptake where Dana was concerned. He hadn’t once brought her up, or what she’d done to him or his career.

  The boy had been seventeen, and driving home from the bowling alley after a night out with friends. He’d texted his mother only eight minutes prior to the accident, to tell her he was on his way home. That was the last thing he had said to her.

  There were no drugs or alcohol found in the kid’s system. Although, the same couldn’t be said for Conner. I’d never even asked about Conner’s injuries from the accident, and he’d never offered any information about them. The pictures from the scene showed him only a bit bruised, and bleeding from his forehead. His hair had been longer then. Gelled perfectly, considering; and his clothes had nothing more than a few wrinkles in them.

  I couldn’t help but wonder who Conner was in that picture. Was he as quiet as he was now? Did he have the crease indention just to the left of his right eye from scowling? Was that young guy aware that he’d become so consumed with guilt he’d almost burry himself alive? I shuddered, forcing the helpless feeling away.

  The next article began with his arrest, and his mug shot was placed perfectly to the left margin. He’d aged considerably since then. There were no worry lines in his forehead, no five o’clock shadow with speckles of gray mixed in. I closed my eyes, wondering if I had the guts to continue. It wasn’t as if he’d never mentioned the story to me. I’d asked him more than once about the incident, and we had even talked about his time in prison. But reading and researching on my own put it into perspective for me.

  Apparently, Conner had paid Dana over one hundred thousand dollars in a civil suit. He’d not mentioned that before. No wonder he felt pressure with making a living. I’d always just assumed he was worried about being a felon. I hadn’t realized he was probably broke as well.

  I closed my laptop, completely drained. God, I’d only been reading about the crap that had happened to him. He had lived it for years.

  ***

  “Hello, my name is Willow Stevens, and I’d like to speak with your coordinator.” My palms were sweaty, which surprised me.

  “This is Michelle. I’m the director here.”

  “Oh. Hi. Um—I’m interested in helping out.” I stumbled on my words, angry that I hadn’t planned what I was going to say prior to my phone call. “You know, with volunteering some,” I finished.

  “Great. You can come down anytime between eight and five, and speak with me personally, if you’d like. I can give you a little backstory, and let you know what areas we need the most help with.”

  It’s now or never. “Perfect. I’ll have time today, if that is okay?”

  “Sounds great. Look forward to meeting you, Willow.”

  Touring the charity’s headquarters was overwhelming, and it wasn’t due to its size. It was a small building, probably a little under three thousand square feet, but there were over twenty people bustling around. Michelle met me at the front desk and was more than excited when I told her Conner and I would like to help out. It was then I found out they were mostly a preventative organization, one who prompted education, first and foremost.

  Michelle told me a little bit about herself and why she was involved. Her father was an alcoholic, and not only killed himself in an accident, but her thirteen-year-old brother too. She told me, for the longest time she wanted to do something for the cause, but never knew where to start. That is, until she came across Triple D—Don’t Drive Drunk. Apparently, there were plenty of Alcohol Anonymous groups out there, but with the exception of the police commercials, she’d not much heard about groups who tried to abolish driving while intoxicated.

  The center ran daily, and had up to thirty volunteers who spent their days printing pamphlets, doing research, talking to families who had been affected by a drunk driver, and on several occasions, met and spoke with kids at local schools. Michelle talked about how important it was to hit the pavement, and seek out those who hadn’t had a horrible experience with an intoxicated driver, because those were the people who were most naïve.

  My brain went into overdrive, and my heart pumped double time. I knew with every molecule in my body, Conner’s place was with this organization, speaking with the kids in the area schools. With his status and cool job, they’d be more inclined to listen to him.

  My phone rang as I unlocked the front door to my house.

  “Hey, baby,” Conner greeted. “I miss you already. This sucks.”

  “I know.” I tossed my purse on the table and continued to the bedroom. “Just think. In a few days, I’ll be joining you, and then you get to come back home and train.” It had been a week since he’d flown out to Las Vegas, and I only missed him more with each passing day.

  I slipped off my shoes and stretched my aching feet against the carpet with a sigh. I had one hour before I needed to get ready for dinner with Lena.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just ran some errands, and I’m getting ready—”

  “What are you wearing?” he interrupted me.

  “T-shirt and shorts.” I held my laughter back as I entered the bathroom.

  He made a soft hungry sound. “One of my T-shirts, or one of your ratty ones?”

  “Hey! My T-shirts aren’t ratty,” I defended as I sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the hot water.

  “You have exactly two shirts without holes in them. One of which, you’ve never worn because it was a gift from your mother when you were fourteen and it has a cat on it.”

  “Fine. I’m wearing your Pantera shirt.” I held a hand under the stream to check the temperature. “Happy?”

  “Damn.” He sighed. “I know one thing. This being apart from my girl thing is going to be fucking suicide for the person I’m fighting. I have so much pent up energy, I could workout twenty-three hours a day, and still not get it all out.”

  I smiled. “The bed just isn’t the same without you, baby.”

  He groaned. “Stop, I’m dying over here.”

  “When do you find out who you’re fighting?” I changed the subject, hoping to take his mind off being alone.

  “Thursday.” He said. “There’s supposed to be some big announcement that I have to be present for. I already told Richard I’ll do ten minutes. Not
a minute longer. If those dumbasses start asking a bunch of ridiculous questions, I’m out.”

  “Conner. You’re going to have to answer some of them. Just don’t let them get under your skin. Thicken up, babe.”

  “I know, but I hate this shit.” He sighed. “I absolutely hate it.”

  “Steele told you this’d be part of the job. You’re going to be successful in the league. They are going to be interested in you. Not to mention, you could get all kinds of endorsements.”

  “I know.” He cleared his throat. “I just need you to hurry up and be here. I’ll be fine then.”

  “I’ll be there before you know it. Just keep training hard, and keep your head up. I love you.”

  “I love you too. More than anything.”

  ***

  I’d begun part-time work at the local paper, which kept my creative juices flowing, while allowing me time to travel with Conner and take on new ventures, like volunteering. Not to mention, I was able to place ads for DDD, and pay for flyers in our Sunday editions.

  Michelle had wanted me to be a guest at her next speaking engagement, this time at a nearby high school. It would give me material for the monthly article I was writing, so I willingly accepted.

  My nerves got the best of me as we walked into the gymnasium at a small charter school, thirty minutes from our town. I wasn’t sure why, as I wasn’t the one speaking to a crowd of three hundred teenagers. Taking my seat on the bottom bleacher, I watched as Michelle gathered her paperwork and walked to the podium.

  I sat quietly, as she gave a rather detailed testimony on why she served. It broke my heart. I felt guilty for living the life I had. It wasn’t her fault, or even her intention, but knowing that I’d had it so much better than others wrecked me, because I’d wasted years thinking I had it so bad. Her story made me realize everything that had happened to me was because I chose it.