felt cool on his skin. He trudged past the gates, nothing but a small bag in his hand and some cash. Waiting on the side of the road was a black SUV. He was told it would be waiting for him. In the driver’s side was a large beefy man he had never seen before. The man watched him, nodding once as he approached the passenger side and hopped in.
“Welcome back, Thames,” he said, looking starstruck. “Heard a lot about you, man. You’ve earned some mad respect for what you did here.”
Feeling disconnected, Thames managed a stiff nod. He didn’t know what was said about him to the crew. Didn’t even want to know because he was too ashamed to admit them. The memories tormented him enough. It was kind of fucked up this guy was celebrating them, looking chuffed he was seated next to a fresh ex-con capable of such abhorrence.
Thames was wretched inside. He fisted his hands to stop them from shaking. He couldn’t focus on his newfound freedom when all of him still felt locked away beyond those gates. He stared at those gates as the man put the car into drive and peeled out of there. Thames was supposed to feel relief when the space between him and the gates grew, but he felt panic instead; it was like rope around his throat, tightening until his vision blurred and his head felt light enough to float away.
He thought of Charlotte.
God, he thought of Charlotte because she was the only thing that gave him ease.
“I decked us out with some snacks and drinks,” the man continued, pointing a tattooed finger to the centre console packed with chocolates and sodas. “It’s going to be a long ride, and I figured you missed some of this good shit.”
Thames looked the big fella over. He couldn’t have been older than twenty and had the crew’s signature tattoos all over him: the raven and the black roses. He spotted the tattooed number on the guy’s inner wrist. No.48. The 48th man to be added to the crew.
Thames glanced at his inner wrist.
No. 34
There had been at least fourteen more since his recruitment. He wondered how many of them were still breathing. How many of them died trying to get out?
“What’s your name?” Thames asked.
“Oh, shit, sorry. I’m Drew.” The guy looked genuinely embarrassed for not introducing himself. He shot an apologetic look at Thames.
“Can we have a quiet ride, Drew?” Thames returned, tiredly.
He had a feeling all Drew would do was rattle on about useless shit. He couldn’t handle the noise. Anything but the noise. He needed the silence. Two seconds out and his ears were aching.
He didn’t know how he handled it before.
Was the world always so loud?
“For sure, man. I’ll be dead quiet.”
Thames dragged a hand through his thick hair, digging his nails into his scalp. His head never stopped pounding. It had become debilitating. His only escape was sleep, so he shut his eyes and embraced the moment when all went black.
“What is it about you Conor Thames?” She stared into his eyes, captivated.
He used to think being rich meant having lots of money. Now it was measured by how many times she gave him that look. It made him feel like a fucking god.
“You keep saying that, dove,” he murmured, kissing her lightly. He watched the way her eyelids fluttered shut. She looked so innocent like this.
“Because I can’t get enough of you,” she whispered against his lips.
She couldn’t get enough of him? God, if she only knew what he felt. Words didn’t do it justice.
“You think one day you might?” he wondered, kissing her slowly as he studied her reaction.
It had been like this lately. His vulnerability was high, and he found himself asking these sorts of questions when the moments came up. Thames was aware more than ever that he was falling harder for her and the hole he was falling into didn’t appear to have a bottom.
He loved her so deeply, so wholly. All he thought about was taking care of her.
Charlotte pulled back to look at him. Her brows furrowed in thought.
“You worried I might?” she asked in return.
He swallowed the knot in his throat. “If you leave me, Charlotte, I don’t think I’d find myself again.”
“We’re having a baby together. How could you think I could leave you?”
“Because I’m a fuck-up. Because I’m realizing how short my fuse is and I’m scared of myself, pup. I’m scared I’ll drive you away, or