law on our side?”
“Fuck the law. We do it the way Jem Wright’s done it.”
Now Conor smirked up at me, his eyes glowing. “By manipulating the law?”
“By being smart.”
He nodded slowly. Gripping my hips now, he pulled me down so that I was spread out and sitting in his lap. I dropped my head down to his and watched him think.
“You don’t have to worry,” he assured me. “I’m not going to fuck this up, Char.”
“I know,” I replied cheekily. “You’d have run out of the house and bashed Paul’s head in otherwise.”
He wasn’t amused. “I’m not that man anymore.”
I ran my finger along his profile, stopping at his soft lips, murmuring, “What sort of man are you now, Conor?”
He kissed my finger and looked away from me. “I don’t know, dove. I don’t know.”
I caught the ache in his expression, the conflict in his eyes as he looked down at my mouth. Anything to keep from meeting my eye.
“All I know is I want you,” he whispered. “I’ll never not want you, Charlotte. It’s all that keeps me going, knowing I have you and Penny, to come out of that hell with a chance at starting over again and doing things right. I just…I don’t know how to get there, baby. I need your help. I need you to guide me when up is down and nothing makes sense.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“You’ll never leave?”
“Never. I’m here,” I declared, gravely. “I’m not going anywhere. Everything will be okay. The worst is over.”
He stiffened a nod.
In that moment I didn’t know if I was reassuring him, or myself.
News spread like wildfire.
Paul had made sure to let every hillbilly know of Conor’s return.
As Conor sat with Penny in the living room putting together a puzzle, I stood by the entrance window of the front room, peering out through the blinds and at the bustling activity. I frequently saw a car pass by, windows down, heads turned in the house’s direction. At some point, a red truck had stopped completely in front of the house and sat idle for minutes. It admittedly unnerved me.
I clutched the phone tight in one hand, tapping it against my chin.
I’d messaged Locke a few times, letting him know what was happening. As time went on, he never answered, and I felt beyond frustrated. When he counted on me, I was always there, but now that I needed him, he had gone AWOL?
Unable to stop myself, I wound up texting Jem next. Jem wasn’t the type to show up and start trouble or anything, but he wouldn’t do nothing either.
His response was immediate.
I’m on the way now with Megan. Keep your door locked. Paul’s got a big mouth and a bunch of drink buddies who’ll want to play hero. If he wants to put together a posse, he will. In the meantime, keep me updated and hold tight.
While it comforted me to know Jem was coming, I still felt uneasy. I paced the house, smiling hesitantly at Conor when he met my eye from the living room as I went by. He didn’t smile back. His gaze lingered on me heavily which prompted me to stay away from him. If he sensed my unease, he might bolt for the motel and make sure the crowd followed him there.
I sent another text to Locke, pleading this time.
Please, Locke, I may need you.
He didn’t answer.
Chapter Twelve
Thames
Thames learned the value of numbers. One was stamped on his wrist, for example. He knew from prison that if you were a loner, it didn’t matter how big you were, you were fucked if you weren’t surrounded by others.
He knew Paul skittered away this morning because the sight of Thames had scared him off. But that fear would have eased as the hours bled by, replaced by fury and humiliation. He was going to round up a bunch of men, cowardly men with big chips on their shoulders, and he was going to return and try and provoke a response out of Thames.
Thames knew that was all this was. They wanted to send him back to prison. They wanted him violent and fighting.
He should have known this was coming.
He should have realized that years in Blackwater of picking fights and running the show was going to result in backlash. He’d returned and secreted himself in this house and had no one in his corner, and they saw him as easy prey. They were confident he wouldn’t be able to hold back the second he was