He enjoyed watching people fall. He fucked with someone’s emotions because he was fascinated by the way they fell apart. He was a villain through and through. And here I was trying to see the best in him still. If he were here, watching me, he would smile. He would enjoy my reluctance to bring him down.
Had I been manipulated by him this whole time? The thought unsettled me. I felt genuinely disturbed, though I couldn’t fathom it. When he needed me, I’d been there. He trusted me.
But Conor would never lie to me, either. My heart wrenched for him. The second I saw him again I knew he was hurting. I knew he was hiding his vulnerability from me. I knew he couldn’t touch me while I watched for fear I’d see him come undone.
What horrors had Conor faced?
I needed his walls down to help him.
Locke’s car was parked beside mine. He was in the office, and I was trying to talk myself out of confronting him, but the more I thought about it, the more betrayed I felt.
At some point, I’d had enough. I threw the coffee cup down and undid my seatbelt. I clamoured out of the car and slammed it shut hard. Then I stormed into the firm, a ball of fury. I wasn’t dressed to impress today. I knew it took everyone by surprise as I ignored their greetings and stomped in the opposite direction.
The blinds were down in his office. I couldn’t see in, but I didn’t care. I threw the door open and thundered in.
Locke was seated at his desk, phone to his ear. He glanced up at me. In that single second, I saw his eyes scan me, saw his face twist with annoyance. He could read me so well. He knew I was about to blow because he hung up the phone straightaway as I stopped in front of him, pointing a seething finger in his direction.
“You lied to me,” I fumed, my voice hardly above a whisper. “You promised he’d be okay.”
“You have to be more specific than that,” he replied inertly.
“Conor,” I clarified with a hiss. “You said he would be okay in prison.”
“I kept to my word.”
“You didn’t.”
Now he just stared at me, watching me as I shook through his betrayal.
“He got hurt in there,” I went on, my voice low and angry. “He’s not telling me what he had to do, but he is haunted. How could you lie to me, Locke? I trusted you.” Hot tears ran down my cheeks as I waited for his response. He remained mute, nothing escaping him as he continued to watch me.
I wiped my tears away, feeling angrier by the second. “If I had known Conor would be left in there to fend for himself all these years, I would never have accepted your offer. I would never have been there for you when you needed me. I will never be there for you again, do you hear?”
Now his eyes left mine. He looked deep in thought, and just when I thought he’d respond, he proved otherwise by remaining mute in that chair.
Oh, God, it was true then. All of it.
“Please tell me I’m wrong,” I whispered just then, searching his face.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t say anything.
“You left him in there to rot.” I sounded shocked. I couldn’t believe it. “I thought you cared for him. I thought Conor was different, Locke. You bastard.”
I hated how quiet he was.
I expected him to growl at me, to tell me to watch my words.
“I defended you, did you know that?” I went on, unable to hold back now. “Every time someone said anything about you, I defended you. To Megan, to Ember, to Jem –”
“Jem,” he repeated, flaring his nostrils, a surge of emotion flaring through him now.
“Yes, Jem,” I said evenly. “And to anyone else who would listen. I shouldn’t have. I should have let everyone talk shit. Even Reid warned me about you just the other day.”
His eyes returned to mine. “Reid.”
“He told me to warn you to back off his territory. You guys were at peace, working together, and then you go around and mess with him. Which doesn’t surprise me because that’s what you do, Locke, you just fuck with everyone’s shit. I was just a prop, wasn’t I? Just something you could control. Somebody you could use every time you needed me.”
“You needed me too, Charlotte,” he simply replied,