by Megyn Ward
Conquering Conner
The Gilroy Clan vol. 4
Megyn Ward
Contents
One
Two
Three
1. Four
2. Five
3. Six
4. Seven
Eight
Seventeen
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
Fifty-one
Fifty-two
Fifty-three
Fifty-four
Fifty-five
Fifty-six
Fifty-seven
Fifty-eight
Fifty-nine
Sixty
Sixty-one
Sixty-two
Sixty-three
Sixty-four
Sixty-five
Sixty-six
Sixty-seven
Sixty-eight
Sixty-nine
Seventy
Seventy-one
Epilogue
One
Henley
2009
I can’t find it.
The ring Conner gave me. It’s gone, and I can’t find it. I’ve been on my hands and knees for hours, scouring the floor of my room, but it’s gone.
I keep looking, though, because I have to find it. If I find it and put it back on then, he’ll see it and know that I’m sorry. That I didn’t mean it.
That I love him.
After he left, I don’t know how long I stood there, feet rooted to the floor, staring at the place where he climbed through my window and left.
Okay, Henley. You win.
The look he gave me when he said it told me everything I needed to know.
He was giving up.
On me.
On trying to make me believe in him.
In us.
Through fighting me.
For me.
I pushed him too hard and too far and I finally got what I wanted. What I’d been waiting for. What I told myself would happen all along.
Okay, Henley. You win.
Somehow, I ended up in bed, curled up on my side. Eyes wide open, staring out the window. I told myself I wasn’t waiting for him. Hoping he’d come back so I could tell him I didn’t mean it. That I was hurt and angry but that I didn’t want to break up.
That I was sorry.
That I loved him.
When I heard footsteps on the fire escape outside my window, I jumped up. Rushed to the window and threw it open, mouth open and ready to say it. All of it. Everything I’ve been thinking and feeling since he left piled up inside me, pushing and crowding chest. My throat. My mouth. It was all there, ready to be spilled.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
I believe you.
But it wasn’t Conner.
“Thank, Hen.” Ryan gives me a smile, the quick flash of it pushing me back, farther and farther until I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, watching while my brother climbs through the open window before he turns to close it behind him.
“How was Caleb’s party?” I don’t know why I ask. I never do. Probably because I don’t want him to think I’m hurt by the fact that he’s never once invited me. Included me.
“Alright.” He shrugs. “Everybody was talking about you.” He doesn’t sound angry about it. He almost sounds proud. “You fucked Jessica up pretty good.”
You’re like the Gilroy family pet.
I shrug, pretending to be indifferent when what I really am is angry. “She’s lucky I only hit her once.”
That one earns me a laugh and I scoot over on the bed a bit, so he can sit next to me. When he does, he bumps his shoulder into mine. “Mom’s gonna be pissed when she finds out.”
“What is she going to do?” I crack a smile. Feel it wobble and tip like it’s going to come crashing down at any moment. “Tell me I can’t play baseball anymore. Take away my cell phone?” I never had a cell phone and she took everything I cared about away from me a long time ago.
And now Conner is gone too.
“She might not let you tutor Con anymore.” His voice sounds weird when he says it. Like he knows it’s a lie. Like he knows everything.
“That’s okay.” I give him another shrug even though the thought of not seeing Conner every day makes me feel like someone is strangling me. “I’m getting tired of doing it, anyway.”
He frowns at me. “I thought you guys were—”
“Were what?” I can’t help it. The words come out of my mouth, hard and defensive.
The lines creasing Ryan’s forehead deepen. “Friends. I thought you guys were friends. I mean, you’re over there all the time and—”
“Friends?” I laugh, even though I want to cry. “Conner and I aren’t friends. We aren’t anything.”
Not anymore.
He gives me a long look, like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying or not. “That’s good.” Ryan lets out a sigh of relief and stands. “Con isn’t someone you want to get hooked on, Hen,” he tells me, shaking his head. “He’d only end up hurting a girl like you. I’ve seen him do it.”
“A girl like me?” I can feel something ugly flare in my chest, hot and sharp. “What does that mean?”
“A… I—you know what I’m mean, Hen.” His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “Don’t make me say it out loud.”
“Ugly.” I have to push the word out, make myself say it because even though I know what I am, it still hurts to know what people think when they look at me. Especially my own brother.
“What?” His eyes goggle at me, so wide and ridiculous, he looks like a cartoon character. “No.” he shakes his head. “That’s not—I mean, you’ve never… at least I don’t think—Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
A virgin.
My brother doesn’t want me dating Conner because I’m a virgin.
The laughter that bubbles in my throat is immediately smothered under the reality of what I did. I broke up with Conner because he wouldn’t use me like he’s used every other girl he’s been with. Because I am a virgin, but I don’t want to be. Because I want Conner to want me.
Not like me. Not love me.
I want him to want me.
And he doesn’t.
Not like that.
And knowing that hurts so bad I can barely breathe.
Still, I can’t let my brother believe the worst about him. “Conner is your friend.” Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “Why would you say something like that?”
“He is my friend.” He gives me a look that says something different. They used to be inseparable but lately that hasn’t been the case. I know I’m part of the reason why. “But you’re my sister.”
“Conner has
never been anything but kind to me and he’s never—” I stop short, thinking about the way he kissed me earlier. How his mouth and tongue felt against mine. How he told pulled away from me and told me no. Don’t make me do this, Henley. Please don’t make me do this… “He doesn’t like me that way.”
“Conner likes everybody that way.” Ryan scoffs. “The problem is that he never likes them that way for long.”
I shake my head, force myself to laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m the exception to that rule.”
He doesn’t say anything. Again, I get the feeling that he knows more than he’s saying. Finally, he answers me. “I guess you’d know better than me… just be careful.”
“I will.” I nod. Force another smile.
“Night, Hen.”
“Goodnight.”
As soon as he leaves my room, pulling the door shut behind him, I lie back on my bed and try to convince myself that Ryan is right. That I did the right thing because Conner Gilroy isn’t the kind of guy a girl like me gets to have. He would’ve eventually gotten bored and moved on to someone else, like he always does. He would’ve broken my heart.
It’s better like this. It’s better that I ended things before I got too attached.
When it doesn’t work, I cry myself to sleep.
Two
Conner
Henley broke up with me because I won’t have sex with her. Me, Conner Gilroy. The guy who has a reputation for pretty much fucking anything got dumped because he got cold feet or grew a conscience or whatever the hell happened.
You know what happened, genius.
I’m in my father’s study, slouched into the wide leather chair Henley and I sit in together. The same chair where I gave her that stupid, fucking ring.
I’ve been sitting here for hours, replaying every moment. Every word. I made mistakes. I know I did, looking back, I can see them clearly.
I pushed her too hard. I moved too slow. I read her poetry and teased her about her freckles when I should’ve been kissing her. Showing her how I feel. How she makes me feel.
Real.
I told myself it was about her. That I wanted to do it right. That she deserved better than what I usually give, but it was really about me. How afraid I was.
“Hey, fuckface.”
I look up to find Declan standing in the doorway. It’s morning, bright sunlight flooding through the open curtains of my father’s study. There’s no real way of knowing how long I’ve been sitting here. If my dickhead brother’s presence is any indication, it’s early afternoon. He never gets up before noon these days. He stopped going to classes a few weeks ago. My parents don’t know.
When I don’t do anything but glare at him, he sighs like I’m the asshole and he’s the put-upon older sibling who has to put up with my childish bullshit. “You have a visitor.”
Henley.
That’s all I can think.
That’s she here.
That we’re going to be okay.
Suddenly I’m up and pushing my way past him. Into the foyer. The front door hanging open, I can see the shadow of her stretched across the porch. I jerk it open even further, stepping through the doorway. Mouth open to tell her I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry and I love her. That I was so worried about losing her that I ended up pushing her away. I can fix that. If she’ll let me, I can make that right.
But it’s not Henley.
It’s Jessica.
Long, shiny blonde hair tucked behind her ear to showcase her perfectly pretty features, marred by the swollen, purple bruise Henley planted on her face.
When she sees me, she smiles and air rushes out of my lungs like someone’s caved in my chest with a bat.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t recognize the voice that comes out of my mouth. It sounds cold. Angry. A thousand-years old.
“I—” Her gaze darts past me to land on Declan who is standing behind me. I know he’s there. No way he’d miss this. Fuck, he probably orchestrated the whole thing. Told her to come here, so she can show me what Henley did to her. Give me her side of things. Make me feel bad for her. try to turn me.
Jessica pulls her eyes back to my face and tries again. “I just wanted you to know that I didn’t do anything to Henley. She just went crazy and…”
I tune her out.
Watch her mouth move like I’m watching a television on mute. What she’s saying doesn’t matter because it’s a lie. Everything about her is a lie.
I wonder how she’d react if I told her that I can see right through her. That she’s less than nothing to me. That I don’t even care enough about her to hate her. That she could completely vanish in front of my eyes and I’d never even wonder where she went. I’d simply shut my door and go on with my life like she never existed.
I must be smiling at the thought because her mouth stops moving, and she lets out a long breath like she’s sighing in relief. “So, you get it? You understand, right?” she says, her mouth lifting in a smile to reveal a perfect row of evenly spaced, white teeth.
It makes me think about Henley. The chip in her front tooth. I’m the one who did it. I was sixteen and we were all playing ball on a hot summer evening. She was rounding third and making a run for home. I was catching and crowding the plate, waiting for Patrick to rocket me the ball, so I could get the out. We were down by one and it was the bottom of the ninth. We needed the play to stay in the game.
Patrick dives for the grounder and pops up, winging it to me on the fly and the ball comes at me like a missile. Instead of backing off, Henley lowers her shoulder, charging me, even though she had to know she had no chance of winning.
The crash was spectacular. She ended up sprawled across home plate, her face in the dirt. By some miracle, she knocked me off the plate and on my ass before the ball hit my glove.
When Tommy Davis called her safe, she rolled herself over and grinned up at me to reveal a jagged chip in one of her front teeth and a mouthful of blood.
It cost her half her tooth, but she won the game.
She didn’t even blink. Just wiped the blood off her chin and said, “Better luck next time, Gilroy.”
“Conner?”
I refocus and see Jessica standing in front of me.
“Yeah.” I nod, tightening my grip on the door knob in my hand. “I understand.” I shut the door in her face. I can see her through the glass, standing there like she’s confused about what she’s supposed to do or say next.
I know what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to open the door and apologize for being so rude. Tell her it’s okay, even though it’s not. Tell her we can still be friends, even though I’d rather play hopscotch on the freeway than spend another second with her. Because that’s what the person I pretend to be would do. That person doesn’t give a shit about Henley. He doesn’t love her. He wouldn’t give her the time of day. All he cares about is having a good time. Getting laid.
For the first time that I can remember, I hate him.
“Trouble in paradise?”
I turn around to see Declan leaning against the banister, a nasty smirk plastered across his face. Despite his easy posture, I can see it. He wants to fight. Wants me to start throwing punches. It occurs to me my brother hates me, has hated me for a long time and I have no idea why.
The kicker is, I don’t even care.
I stop at the foot of the stairs. “You won.” I say it without looking at him because if I do, I’ll give him what he wants. I’ll start swinging and I won’t stop. Not until one of us is dead. “You won, so, you can stop now, okay.” I can feel my fingers tighten around the width of the bannister. My teeth grind, fused together by a rage so strong I’m sick with it. “You got what you wanted. Henley broke up with me. She doesn’t want to see me anymore, so you can leave her alone now. It’s over.”
Three
Conner
It’s the first Monday in October. That means Tess and I are about to be up to our chins in oil changes and tire rotations. Cap’n wil
l be here any minute, with his parade of work trucks needing service.
He gets his employees to drive them in and drop them off while he waits here until they’re all accounted for so he can shuttle them back to their various worksites in the company van. Then Tess and I get to bust ass, getting fifteen trucks serviced by the end of the day.
Can’t complain though. The money he offered when he suggested the whole thing a few months ago was too good to pass up. It enabled me to give Tess a healthy raise and funds my classic car addiction. All it costs me is one, day-long headache, every two months.
He’ll be here at 7AM. Cap’n never late but I can’t seem to push myself out of bed. Bed is a strong word. It’s a metal-framed futon I bought when I moved in here a few years ago. The kind that’s made to be used as a sofa more than it is a place to sleep.
Which makes it perfect because I might lay on it a few times a week if I’m lucky. I stretched out a few hours ago and closed my eyes, hoping I’d be able to catch a few minutes of sleep.
Nope.
Per usual, my brain, which is a complete asshole, said, sleep? You don’t need sleep. What you need to do is relive every interaction you’ve ever had with Henley.