lose control right now. His emotions were high, and he could easily feel his sick father's joy from making him uneasy.
Trapping his son in a corner that he believed there was no escape from.
Giving up my attempt to not touch him, I gently laid my hands on his shoulder.
"Connor," I said a third time. "Look at me."
The waves of emotions hit me like falling bricks, and it took everything in me to remain standing instead of dropping to my knees and screaming at the overwhelming emotions of anger, sadness, and intense hate.
The emotions thrumming within him could kill, and that was what made Connor far more dangerous than I would have expected. He always was calm and collected. Even in the midst of an intense situation, he always had some sort of plan to get us out.
Now the tables were turned, and he needed that calm person to talk sense to him so he would see what his father was trying to do.
That his father was merely trying to attach enough strings to make Connor into a puppet while he enjoys the position of puppeteer.
When he didn't move, I reached for one of his clenched fists, wrapping my hand around his. His rigid stance quivered at my touch, and the longer I held him, the harder it was for him to ignore me as he slowly lowered his arms.
I slipped in between him and the lockers, pressing my back against the damaged surface and focusing my attention only on him. My hands held his clenched fists, and I moved him closer until our bodies were pressed together,
His eyes were still closed as tears ran down his cheeks, and I could feel the hint of embarrassment he carried within. As if him shedding tears wasn't valid in this position and left him feeling ashamed.
"Connor," I whispered yet again, needing to grab his attention here and now. "My calm teddy bear, Connor."
My words seemed to make him sob more as he fought against the next wave of tears, squeezing his eyes closed.
"You know whatever that man is threatening you with can't get rid of me," I whispered. "Can't destroy us."
His eyes opened then, and I swallowed the lump in my throat as black eyes glared back at me. "What if that threat is forced marriage?" he whispered. "How do you define us getting through that?"
Arranged...marriage?
"You shouldn't be here," he whispered, and tried to push me away, but I clung to him like glue as my eyes remained on his.
"We can fix it."
"There's no time."
"There's still five minutes."
"Brianne, there's no other choice!"
"I said we can fix it!"
"How are we going to get seven million dollars in five minutes, Brianne!" he roared in my face. "That's how much that trip cost. That's how much that man deliberately spent on us. He’s now telling me to pay up or I'll have to marry that blonde slut of a bitch who I just saw giving that old geezer head minutes earlier!"
That was unexpected, but I didn't need him to elaborate on what "head" meant.
"Where was this?"
"What?"
"Where were they doing that?"
"Near the girl’s changing room further down the hall. That was before I waltzed down here to grab something from my locker and was interrupted," he explained while his body trembled. "Fucking disgusting and yet I'm supposed to now marry that chick because we were sponsored to go on a free vacation we never asked for!"
He lifted his fist to punch the locker next to me, but I stepped right in the way, which forced him to stop at the last second - his fist just inches from my nose.
"Brianne," he snarled with menace, enough to tick me off. The next move happened so quickly, that I wasn't sure how I managed it, but he was suddenly against the lockers with my hands against his chest and my eyes blazing with anger.
He looked back at me in shock, as if my move had knocked some common sense back into him. The hints of his onyx colored orbs with bits of silver and purple fought against the jet black.
I was positive my eyes were black like his were, but I was still in full control of my actions.
At least for now.
"Don't snarl my name like that," I snapped, which wasn't what I was initially going to say, but suddenly felt like saying.
Alright. Maybe not in full control, but I'd get to the point I needed to reach.
"Your dad is doing this on purpose." I kept my voice low