he came, it was sudden and explosive and…fucking perfect. He came and came, filling her pussy up to the brim with his seed, groaning like a pained animal, his mouth buried in her hair, her scent comforting him.
When he got off her and dropped to the bed panting, he grabbed at her body and hugged her to his chest, squeezing her tightly against him. When she tried to look up at him, he forced her tighter still.
She didn’t need to see his pain.
He couldn’t bear it.
“I’m not safe,” she later murmured, half-asleep, her finger drawing circles along his sweaty chest.
“I know,” he said, passively.
He didn’t care.
Prison was a testosterone-fuelled sausage fest. Every day was unpredictable. Thames had learned to endure the chaos; he’d even absorbed some of it. It was sheer pandemonium, and some of the inmates couldn’t cope the second they’d walked in. Thames once witnessed an inmate snap fifteen years into his sentence.
Snapping consisted of various things. One picked a fight and was beaten to death. Another stabbed an inmate with the broken end of a broomstick and was placed in solitary. And then there were the ones that took it out on themselves. The ones that decided it was time to check out and, See you later, world. They’d usually be found hanging in their cells come morning.
At his lowest, Thames would have killed himself, and the most fucked up part of that was he didn’t think he would regret it. Even being out, he remembered what that aching depression felt like. When you’ve been that low, you don’t forget the scarring effect it has on you. The depression sinks its teeth into your being and becomes part of you.
He was feeling that pain right now, and he couldn’t breathe. Sex had taken the edge off, but he was still all kinds of fucked. His chest felt all tight and he didn’t have a cement wall to bust his fist into. So, he slipped out of bed in the dead of night, changed into his jogging pants and hoodie and quietly left the house.
The second the cold air hit his face, he stepped off the porch and ran. The rush in him was immediate. The burn in his lungs was welcoming. He felt reborn, the space endless in front of him.
He blinked and pictured the cell he’d rotted in for so many years. He remembered walking in endless circles, brushing his fingers along the cement walls, wondering what freedom felt like because he’d forgotten.
He took deep breaths, his eyes scanning the large houses he ran past. He kept his hood up, obscuring most of his face so that in the off chance someone was still out, they couldn’t know who he was.
He wasn’t Conor Thames, bully, infamous bad boy, mega criminal asshole of Blackwater.
Right now he was invisible.
He slowed as Reid’s house came into view. The house was dark, but the porch light was on, and sitting on the steps, nursing a smoke was Reid. Elbows propped on each knee, he’d been staring ahead at nothing when his head snapped in Thames’ direction.
Reid watched him as he stopped and stared back. Thames’ chest was heaving up and down, his skin was slick with sweat. There was a spark of adrenaline at the sight of Reid sitting there. He hadn’t anticipated actually seeing him. He’d just wanted to run past the house, give it a quick look, try to reconcile the curiosity in him from what he’d heard about Reid.
Flicking the smoke down on the ground, Reid stood up and strolled to him. Dressed similarly as him, Thames couldn’t help but feel a little surprised at how big Reid how gotten. Took a while for the little shit to grow up, but when he did, he turned into a fucking man.
“Did she tell you about my text?” he asked him, coming to a stop just before the fence that separated him from Thames.
“What text?” Thames returned carefully.
“Doesn’t matter.” Reid’s lips went up on one side as he looked his cousin over. “Looking solid, cousin.”
Thames nodded slowly. “Can say the same about you.”
“How’ve you been?”
“Not sure yet,” he said honestly, eyes lapping over Reid’s face. “Still scoping out the lay of the land.”
“I didn’t think you’d come out of hiding for a while yet.”
Conor looked at him. “I’m not hiding.”
Reid nodded slowly. “No, you aren’t.”
Only a few moments of tense silence followed. Thames always waited for the other person to diffuse it. He found he could read certain things