by Lexi Hart
Angry tears start to brew. “What happened to Tyler?”
Tessa doesn’t look me in the eye, just toys with the pen on her desk. “He was put into foster care. He got into drugs and overdosed while Connor was locked up.” While I sit stunned, Tessa smiles sadly. “Pretty shitty, huh?” I don’t know what else I can say, so I just sit there feeling numb and sick to my stomach. Tessa taps something into her computer and looks at me. “Connor Slade went into jail an angry teen who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he came out a very dangerous man with a serious dislike for authority.” I start to nod, but she interrupts me. “That’s as far as I go in my professional capacity as his parole officer.”
She leans forward. “This is Tessa mode. Someone who wants Connor to find a nice woman to help him go straight. This Tessa is going to level with you. No matter how well you think you know Connor, I guarantee he’s not being entirely truthful with you. I don’t think he really knows how to be.” I swallow and nod as she continues. “No man goes into prison for as long as he did without making criminal connections. There are too many things about this Hoskins’ trial that smell funky. I’m not pushing it. The police aren’t pushing it, but you need to be aware a life with Connor Slade isn’t going to be only hot sex.”
I exhale slowly, trying to read between the lines even though my cheeks are blazing. “I understand.”
She shakes her head. “No, you don’t. I think you’re so in love with him that all you’re seeing is what you want to see, but Connor needs someone to see the good in him. He deserves a good woman.” I nearly choke on a sob as she smiles at me, then looks at her watch. “It’s 9am. Connor and his lawyer will be here any second.” I sniff, and she hands me a tissue as her phone buzzes. “Okay. He’s here. I’ll give you a few minutes alone; then I need to have you both sign off on a couple things.” She picks up a piece of paper on her desk and hands it to me as she walks towards the door. “This is a waiver; you should probably have your lawyer look it over before signing. It basically says you agree to have sensors installed and agree to the conditions of carrying out Connor’s remaining parole.”
The paper starts to shake as I take it out of her hands. “Okay.”
She squeezes my shoulder gently as she walks past. I take a shuddering breath and try to prepare myself for Connor’s arrival. I don’t know whether to stand or sit or to try and look casual and unaffected by him being here, but my heart starts to race as the door opens, and all my false confidence dissolves as he steps inside the room.
CONNOR
She’s across the room and throwing her arms around me before I can even say hello. I stagger back, circling my arms around her as I kick the door closed. She smells incredible, like sunshine in a bottle. She’s trembling as she clings to me, her breathing rapid as her mouth crushes against mine. Our tongues connect sending waves of pleasure shooting straight to my cock.
I grab her ass and pull her closer to me. Her hands slide up my back, fingernails pressing into my skin as we crash against the door. She moans into my mouth, and my fingers start to unbutton her blouse. Her rapid breathing increases as she tugs at my pants, I have just enough time to slide my hand inside her shirt before my brain kicks into gear. I kiss her harder, then release her. Her eyes are glassy, her hair mussed, and it takes all the control I have not to bend her over Tessa’s desk and pull up her skirt.
I back away, smiling at the black lace poking out from her blouse. Her nipples are sticking out, so I avert my eyes and run a hand over my face. “Not that I’m complaining but—”
She nods weakly, her lip catching her teeth as she starts to button herself up again. “I’m sorry. Um, I don’t know what happened.”
I chuckle. “You don’t need to apologize for giving me a hard-on.” Her cheeks turn crimson, but she licks her lip, sending all the blood flow to my already hard cock. “Shit, woman. I’m trying here, but could you stop looking at me like that?” She releases a breath and stumbles back until she hits the chair. Her legs buckle, and she collapses into the seat. I keep my eyes on her legs as she crosses them so slowly I catch a glimpse of the matching panties I’d hoped she’d wear. I groan and lean over so I’m staring at the carpet. My voice comes out somewhere between a rasp and a pant. “Just give me a minute.”
She sounds half aroused and half concerned when she replies. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, trying to shake all thoughts of doing something stupid. I try to think about the least sexy things I can to distract myself from how close she is and how willing she is. We have limited time, and I need to talk to her while I can. I can’t even look at her until I know I’m under control, so I stare at my boot laces and start counting in my head.
“Evelyn, we literally have five minutes.”
Her voice is breathless, but she seems a little steadier than I feel. “You’re right. We can pick this up later. When you come home with me.”
My head snaps up. My eyes lock onto her to see if she’s serious. “What?” She gestures to Tessa’s desk, and I have to lean over to see. “You can serve out your home detention with me. I’m a good candidate for—”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve put you through enough.”
Her face falls, her mouth slackening. “But, I thought... I could help you.”
Ice starts to run through my body. Her expression has changed; she’s not thinking about me the same way. She probably knows all about me. All about Tyler. I know the look that’s on her pretty face, I’ve seen it on too many faces to count. From the court-appointed counselors to the prison chaplain, to the mandated therapist, the state forced me to see. It’s the same look people gave me for weeks after my parents died, the look the social worker gave me when she was trying to figure out if I could raise Ty on my own.
My voice comes out too harsh. “I don’t want your pity.”
Her bottom lip starts to wobble. “What are you talking about?”
I work my jaw as irritation surges through me, washing away the last trace of lust. I keep my voice hard. “I’m not some pet project.”
Her eyes widen. “I never said you were.”
I can’t look at her anymore; this is hard enough without seeing her upset because of me. “This, us, this isn’t going to work out. It never would have lasted.”
Her breath releases in a rush, but instead of tears like I usually get when I end things, she sounds pissed off. “Really? You’re so sure?”
I shrug as lazily as I can. “I’m not denying I had a great time, and I appreciate the offer, but this is complicated enough already—”
She cuts me off with a choked laugh. “Complicated? Are you fucking kidding me?” The seconds tick by as I stare over her shoulder. She doesn’t say a word, just glares at me. “Wow. Silence. That’s all I get from you after everything I did to clear you?” I flick a glance at her, which I regret instantly. Her eyes are brimming with tears, and her hands are shaking. She swallows, and a tear drips down her cheek. She leaves it there as a testimony to what a complete prick I am. Evelyn shakes her head. “I’m such an idiot. I actually thought you cared about me. I guess that lawyer was right after all. You were just using me.” She rises slowly and clears her throat as she swipes her tears away and straightens her clothing. “Goodbye, Connor.”
Her perfume wafts over me as she stalks out the door and slams it behind her. I stare at my boots and don’t look up until I hear Tessa’s irritated voice. “What did you do?”
I slump back in the chair and stare at the waiver for home detention approval on the desk. A lump forms in my throat as I see Evelyn’s signature already on the bottom. My voice is too thick as I try to answer and convince myself at the same time. “I did her a favor.”
Tessa looks like she’s about to throttle me as she slides behind her desk. “Oh, you stupid, stupid man. That’s your pride talking.”
I snort a fake laugh. “Yeah, well, pride is the only thing I have left right now.” Tessa’s lips press together as she hands me the sign-
in sheet, all without speaking a word. I scribble my name and get to my feet. “Are we done here?”
She takes the sheet without looking at it and grabs a donut from the box on her desk. “Yeah. We’re done.” My hand is on the doorknob when I hear her mumble through mouthfuls of donut. “Jackass.”
Chapter 17.
Evelyn
I stumble down the sidewalk, jostling past people walking in the opposite direction. Hot tears burn at my eyes, and I walk as quickly as my four-inch heels allow for. I make it to my car before I burst into tears.
How could I have been so stupid? How could I have invested so much in a man I barely know? Was I that lonely, that desperate, that I saw something in Connor that wasn’t there? Did I want someone in my life again so desperately that I took his flippant comment that he loved me as more than it was?
I ruined my reputation, and for what? To be rejected and thrown away like garbage? By a man with no home. No job and a bevy of women. I did all that just to find out I’d been manipulated just the way Rick’s slick lawyer suggested? Humiliation washes through me as I click my seat belt into place. I put my shaking hands on the steering wheel and watch the people walking by oblivious to my torment.
I need a drink. I need to drink until I don’t see the coldness in his eyes while he told me it meant nothing, while my skin was still blazing from his touch. Maybe that’s all he was. A toxic mix of wild sex, heat, and hormonal impulses.
I choke on another sob. I’m just a sad, desperate, lonely woman who made the mistake of building up a casual affair into a relationship. I lean my head back and think of what I heard in court. No wonder he didn’t want me there. He didn’t want me to hear about how he seduced another’s man wife.
How many other women has he seduced? Manipulated? Used?
I blink, scrambling to think of what Rebecca told me about the witness who confirmed she saw him talking on the phone the night I was attacked. Connor was with her that night. She was his date. I start to sob angry tears. I’ve humiliated myself. I went from being perfectly content with my life to behaving like a bitch in heat. What the hell is wrong with me? I should have known better than to get tangled up in this. I knew what I was doing. I thought he was an escaped felon, and I still slept with him, not once but twice, and I know without a doubt if we’d had more time together, I would have had sex with him again.
I’m so angry, with myself, with him, with Rick, with men who use women and then walk all over them that I pull out into traffic without looking. In fragments, I hear a car horn honk and tires squealing. My foot hits the brake; my seatbelt tightens as I come to a jerking stop. The drivers flips me off as he drives past. My heart is racing, adrenaline firing through my body. I take a breath and try to calm myself and thank God I didn’t hit anyone.
I’ve let myself get so distracted, so emotional that my judgment is impaired. Maybe that’s all Connor, and I were too. A momentarily lapse in judgment.
A mistake to be learned from and never repeated.
So now what am I supposed to do? Sit at home and grieve again? Shut myself off and hide away like I’m ashamed? There are so many variations circulating about what happened, branding me everything from a slut to a victim while Connor is either a stud or an opportunist. I have no idea if he’s planning on telling his side of the story. I can’t believe he’d be allowed to. But I can.
I can tell the truth in its entirety now that both trials are over.
I grab my cell. My hands are still shaking when I dial. When the connection clicks and a heavily British accented woman answers, I’m ready even though my hands are shaking as much as my voice. “This is Evelyn Jones; I’d like to speak to Cherie White please.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I answered the phone. What can I do for you, Evelyn? Did you get Connor on board, or are you doing the interview solo?”
I exhale slowly and take my time. “I’m calling because I need a job.”
“Uh, okaaay? We have a classified department—”
I tap my finger on my leg as I come up with my best sales pitch. “No, I mean I want to come work for you.”
Cherie chuckles. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises. You do realize that I’m not hiring at the moment? I can barely afford to pay the staff I have.”
“I know, but I’ll waive the interview fee if you give me a job instead. I figure that’s the equivalent to a month’s salary.”
She bursts out laughing. “In real estate land, maybe. For the little folk I have here in news land, you’re talking two months’ salary, and I’m carrying enough dead weight as it is, so why should I hire you?”
The words flow out unbidden. “I live nearby; I have contacts that can be useful, I can negotiate you a better rate on just about anything from your paper supplier to your toner.”
“So, basically you’re more qualified than I am to run this place? Why do I feel there’s a but coming?”
“I want to tell my side of the story. In my own words. Connor won’t be a part of it.”
Cherie is silent, and I can hear a phone ringing. “Okay, I think we can make that work.” I know I’m on the verge of crying again, so I clear my throat. “Come in tomorrow morning. We have a staff meeting around 9am. If you can handle the morning madness, I think I can give you a trial for a couple months.”
I smile into the phone and blink until my tears clear. “See you tomorrow. And thank you.”
She barks a laugh. “You might not be thanking me when the story gets printed.”
“I never got to tell my story in court. I was too busy trying not to get Connor in any more trouble. I want to make a public statement.”
“Check with your lawyer first, she might want to let some time pass before we print anything, but when you have the authority, we’ll draft something up.”
Cherie hangs up, leaving me staring at the cell phone wondering if I’m about to make things a whole lot worse for myself. I’m too raw to call my mom or Rosie, so I slide my phone in my purse, already thinking about what I want to say. Maybe writing it all down unfiltered without fear of reprisal will be therapeutic?
This time, I check the way is clear three times before pulling out into traffic again.
ONE MONTH LATER
Connor
Friday 3.47pm
The second I’m out the court door, my phone starts to buzz in my pocket. I pull out a pair of cheap sunglasses and push them over my nose.
The caller doesn’t identify himself. “Five minutes.”
I grunt a response and pick up my pace. I cross the street and try not to look like I’m in a hurry. The park is filled with people. Mother’s pushing strollers, kids running riot, but my eyes are on the scrawny man reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette.
I take a seat at the edge of the bench and push one hand into my pocket and pull out my cell so I look like I’m busy. I watch him out of the corner of my eye then shift so I can get his attention. “Can I bum a smoke?”
He doesn’t speak, just passes the packet. “Keep them; I’m trying to quit.”
I take them, and he leans closer so he can light one. I take a drag and try not to grimace as tar fills my lungs. He sits for a bit longer until his cigarette is finished, then he carefully folds the newspaper in half and places it to one side. I wait ‘til he’s walking past the playground before I grab the newspaper and act like I’m interested in reading it. A note and a fat envelope spills out of the middle into my lap.
You sure you aren’t in the market for another job?
I crumple up the paper and tuck the envelope down the front of my pants. I need to stay put for a bit so I browse the headlines, sending glances over the top in case I haven’t been as smart as I think I have. I scan the local paper pleased to see the noise surrounding me is dying down, ready to check the sports page when I do a double take.
“Damn it.”
I see my picture and Evelyn’s and don’t know if I want to bother reading any more of the junk that’s been circulating. I fli
nch as I read the author of the article. I shouldn’t be surprised that Evelyn has finally decided to talk to the press. If I didn’t have a gag order, I’d probably have considered it myself. I can only imagine how much money they offered her since this is, as far as I know, her first interview.
I skim read, trying to get a feel for how much of an asshole she’s making me sound like, but it’s not an interview. It’s more of a statement, so I go back to the beginning and read it from woe to go.
Evelyn Jones in her own words.
Given the truly important things happening in the world, it is ridiculous that even now, so much attention is still being paid to the nature of my brief encounter with Connor Slade. What should have been private has been made public. What was between two consenting adults has become a scandalized and sensationalized sound bite.
After careful consideration for my family, and out of consideration for a man who cannot answer his accusers as openly as I can, I refuse to divulge the intimate details of our liaison without his permission. What I will say is that the weekend I spent with Connor was the most erotic and fulfilling sexual experience of my entire life.
No matter how the media paints it, the weekend I spent with Connor changed me for the better. And though our relationship was brief, I want to thank Connor for letting me see a glimpse of what I was missing out on by hiding away and refusing to let go of my grief.
Connor, if you’re reading this, I will always cherish what we had, however fleeting it was.
Ms. Evelyn Jones
Wanton woman and newest addition to The Sanctuary News Team
I read it three times, each time wondering what I’m missing. She had the perfect opportunity to call me out; instead, she defended me and made me sound like God’s gift to women. My cell buzzes in my hand, and I nearly drop it. My lips tug downwards as I see it’s only Tessa calling. “I thought we were done?”