by R. J. Lewis
He opened his eyes and he wasn’t greeted with darkness. It was so bright; he could almost taste the sunshine. Blinking, he glanced around the empty room, very slowly putting together the pieces. His body was sore, but not the kind of sore he was used to.
“Char?” he whispered, searching for her.
He couldn’t feel her presence. She had left the room and he hadn’t heard her. Slowly, he sat up, forcing his weak bones to move. It took everything in him to slide off the bed and stand. He meandered to the large window overlooking the neighbourhood, aware he was stark naked in the light. The streets were barren, not a soul present. He spread his arms out, placing his hands on the cool window and closed his eyes again, enjoying the heat on his skin. He felt like a lizard perched on a rock, sunning himself. His bones were rigid and cold, the kind of cold the sun couldn’t warm.
Thames opened his eyes and surveyed what he could see of the neighbourhood in the light of day. It was a classy suburb. The kind you’d want your kids to come home to after school, but also the kind parents had to slave for to make the mortgage payments.
How much money was Locke paying Charlotte?
And since when had Charlotte opted for the suburban life? She had always liked being on the fringes of society, never permanently marked.
Then again, Charlotte was nineteen when he got locked up. Nineteen. Jesus, it seemed all wrong now looking back. He should have stayed away, or at least have been the kind of guy to set an example for her.
In the bathroom, she had put aside a new toothbrush for him. He made quick work of his teeth, ignoring his reflection the entire time. He couldn’t stand to see the marks and ink on his body. He had a quick hot shower, addicted to the blazing heat on his flesh. He scrubbed his body everywhere, enjoying the scent of sex, the scent of Charlotte’s sweet pussy before it washed away. When he got out, he lazily threw on the clothes she had set aside for him and stepped out of the bedroom quietly.
He felt like an awkward guest. The house was completely silent. He walked down the hallway where the staircase was and paused at the top. His gaze was on the bedroom next to it, door slightly ajar. He didn’t know what prompted him to look in. Basic instinct maybe because he had an idea what he would find. He closed in on the door and peered through the crack, his insides at once seizing at the sight.
A little girl was fast asleep, her long dark hair splayed on the pillow around her head. She was so tiny, wearing light blue pyjamas with yellow ducks all over. There was even a rabbit teddy cradled to her chest. She was clinging to that rabbit like it was a lifeline.
Thames couldn’t breathe. He felt liquid rush to his eyes again. It took everything in him to take a step back when all he wanted to do was burst into the room and hold her. His heart hurt, and right then he wanted to punch his face to knock sense into himself. A flood of enormous regret hit him. If he’d just kept Billy alive, he wouldn’t have been put away for long. He would have been there for her.
The weight in his heart was debilitating. He rubbed his chest, forcing breaths in. Then he lingered at the top of the staircase for so long, trying to calm down. He was tempted to lock himself back in the bedroom and recuperate, but Charlotte was kicking around somewhere.
Right on cue, he heard her voice, distant and jumbled. He followed it downstairs and down a short corridor to the kitchen. As he approached, he heard a familiar voice and stopped just out of sight.
“I shouldn’t have to hear my son is out from Jem,” his mother scolded. “And a day later, no less.”
“I had no idea he would come here, and it was late when he did,” Charlotte responded coolly. “I was overwhelmed. I didn’t think to call you at three in the morning.”
“Is that really why?” Megan sounded uncertain. “Or is it because you’re afraid I’d tell him about you and Locke and what I walked in on that day?”
There a long moment of silence. Thames’ head snapped to attention, a sense of whiplash running through him. He held his breath, begging for her response. Though, part of him didn’t want to find out anything this way.
“You can tell him what you want,” she finally said, boldly. “I have nothing to hide.”
He stepped into the room, immediately catching the icy tension between them. Megan was sitting around the island of the mammoth white themed kitchen and Charlotte was standing with her back against the stove, her arms spread out on the counter behind her in an unthreatened pose. Her eyes jumped to his and Megan followed. His mother’s frown disintegrated into surprise followed by joy.
Charlotte knew he had heard them, and she looked sorry. His eyes were directly on hers as Megan stood up and rushed to him.
“Conor! I can’t believe you’re here,” Megan sniffed into his chest, burying her head into him. “I rushed over as soon as I found out.” Her arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight. He wrapped an arm around her in return, refocusing his attention to her. She was older now, even though her hair was still done up in golden blonde curls. Still dressed in designer outfits, her nails pampered, her face had work done in places, but it wasn’t overdone. She pulled back to look up at him, genuine tears in her eyes as she looked him over. He noticed she found the name on his neck, and he didn’t miss the way her lips pursed. It made his eyes flicker back to Charlotte. By now she had turned her back to him, staring down at the counter. Something was very wrong, and he knew it had to do with what he just heard.
Megan demanded to know how he was, and he answered every question, assuring her he was okay, that he missed her too. But his heart was in his ears and all he kept thinking about was what the fuck Megan had walked in on.
He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. It didn’t mean it was anything sexual. Charlotte swore she’d been with no one, that she waited, and Locke had backed that up. But the way she was behaving now after knowing Thames had overheard made him worried. He didn’t want to feel conflicted at a time like this, not when his baby was upstairs and due to get up. He swallowed his impulsive need to know and forced himself in the present.
Charlotte had not seemed bothered by Megan’s words. She had been firm, telling her she had nothing to hide. He reminded himself she would never deceive him like that. She would have been truthful last night, and he felt her honesty. It was genuine, and besides, Megan was a loose cannon when she wanted to be. She had a history of overdoing it with the most basic dramas, habitually blowing them out of proportion.
It could have been something.
Could have been nothing, too.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, already calming down.
“You could have let us know ahead of time,” Megan chided, frowning up at him. God, was his mother always so little?
He took her face into both his hands and looked down at her, a small smile twisting his lips. He was genuinely happy to see her. This drama queen who had never left his side despite what a fuck up he was.
“I’m two minutes out of prison and you’re already giving me a hard time,” he said, lightly.
Her cheeks went rosy, and she sheepishly shrugged. “A mother’s stripes never change.”
He pulled her in for another hug and this time buried his face into her hair, breathing her in. She hugged him just as tightly, crying softly into his shirt. His gaze flickered up to Charlotte, who had turned around now to look at them. She smiled softly at them, genuinely happy to see their reunion despite whatever bullshit was between her and his mother.
“Come for dinner,” Megan said, pulling back. “I’ll make you your favourite. Ember will be there, and Lily, too. I’m sure you’ve missed them. Invite Jem and come with Charlotte and Penny. We’ll be a family again –”
“Slow down, Ma,” he cut in, chuckling. “I really am in no rush.”
“But everyone wants to see you.”
“They will, but…” He looked back at Charlotte and let out a sigh. “I have my family, too. I haven’t seen Penny and…I mean, I just saw her asleep in bed and…It’s all an adjustment for me. I
don’t…”
He didn’t want to be in a crowded room, he wanted to say. His head was still spinning from yesterday. First the party at Holden’s, then Jem’s bar, and then Locke’s club. All those people. The thought of going back out there, in Blackwater, made him uneasy.
He didn’t trust himself just yet.
He also just wanted to see his daughter.
Megan looked depressed by that. She reluctantly nodded, whispering, “Of course, Conor. Can I at least stay to watch you with Penny?”
He nodded yes before turning to Charlotte. “What can I expect, Char? How do I do this?” Because he didn’t fucking know. Because he was sorta scared shitless. Because he didn’t want to fuck this up.
Charlotte smiled reassuringly at him. “Just be you, Conor.”
“What does that mean?” He was aware he was sounding anxious, but he felt so lost. “Should it be slow? Should it even be done here? I can leave, and we can go slow. Anything to make it easy on her.”
“Charlotte’s done a good job keeping you in the picture,” Megan cut in, glancing warmly at Charlotte. “Take a look around, Conor. You’re everywhere.”
And he did.
He slowly refocused his sights on the pictures hanging on the walls. He followed them out of the kitchen and into the family room. Pictures of him as a kid. Pictures of him and Charlotte, of Charlotte pregnant, of him holding her and her swollen belly.
Just as he was staring at his pictures, he was drowning in all of Penny’s, too. Baby photos fresh out of the hospital. Photos of her crawling, walking, smiling up at the camera. On a bike, on roller blades, in the pool. She always appeared so happy, so blessed. His eyes burned as he traced her baby face with his thumb, the regret growing even heavier in the pit of him.
He missed all this.
Oh, if he could just turn back the clock.
He would have done things so differently.
Always this regret hung over him, but never this powerfully.
My beautiful Penny. He thought, loathing himself for becoming the very thing he loathed the most: his father. The absentee fuck who had turned to the drink before he died and destroyed the relationships around him.
Had Thames destroyed his relationship with his daughter already?
He didn’t know how long he’d stood there, touching the photos, telling himself he would have done anything to be transported to that moment to see it for himself. He vaguely heard the soft pitter patter of feet approaching, and he knew she was going to be there when he turned and…he wasn’t so scared anymore.
He wanted this. He wanted it more than the air he breathed.
He turned, and there she was, fresh out of bed, her head a mess of soft brown waves flowing past her shoulders. She was still in her blue pyjamas, that teddy in her arms, and she was looking to Charlotte, her eyes wide with questions. But the girl already knew the answers. She swallowed and turned to look at him, her shock slowly turning to…something good. He could see the recognition in her eyes.
She knew who he was, and it conjured such a strong emotion in him.
“Are you my daddy?” she asked, her voice small.
It wasn’t killing men in prison that made him cry. It wasn’t seeing Charlotte for the first time in eight years, either. No, it was seeing his daughter, and suddenly he understood why there was an empty piece in his heart. He’d given it away to Penny when she fell out of Charlotte on that driveway that miserable day. He’d looked at her screaming face, longing to touch her, but also doing what he could not to for fear of ruining her.
“I am,” he declared quietly.
She smiled, running up to him just as he knelt to her level, scooping her tiny form into his arms. “Mom said one day you’d be here.”
It hurt how good this felt, to hold her, to not have to wonder what she felt like. This tiny being that was half-him, that looked like him, too, though Charlotte was everywhere in her face. He looked up at Charlotte as he picked up his daughter, carrying her to them. Charlotte looked at peace, while Megan was a sobbing mess.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Penny rambled in endless sentences. “I have so much to show you. I have so many pictures. I always draw you. Mom said to always have pictures of you and they’re in my room. I also have a doll house. Oh, and I play Minecraft on my iPad, and I have a character that I named Dad. He looks like you, too, but he’s all squared. I put him in a cell with bars, and now I can make a door for him. He can finally leave.”
He sat her down on the island and kissed her everywhere, pulling back to look at her between kisses. She smiled up at him, her front teeth were all gone, though he could see a new one breaking through. When she smiled, his chest lit up like fireworks. She had happy tears, and she awkwardly wiped at her eyes, shrugging at them, exclaiming, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“You’re happy,” Charlotte said. “Didn’t I tell you this was going to happen?”
Obviously there seemed to be a history of this conversation being had. Penny looked up to the ceiling. “You did,” she confessed. “But we waited so long for you, Daddy, and I didn’t believe Mom anymore. I’m sorry, Mom.”
“That’s okay.”
“People kept saying you were never coming out.”
“Kids being kids,” Megan intervened, looking like she was holding back a glare. “We always said ignore them.”
She nodded. “Yeah, Kane said they were being bullies and to be strong and he was always going to be there for me.”
“Kane sounds like a good kid,” Thames said, running his fingers through her tangled hair.
“I keep telling Mom that, but she just rolls her eyes.”
When Thames glanced to Charlotte, sure enough, she was rolling her eyes. She gave Megan a pointed look, and Megan avoided her son’s eye. Whoever this Kane kid was, there seemed to be shared tension there.
Whatever. Thames didn’t care. He was on cloud fucking nine right now, basking in his daughter’s presence.
He thought if he died right then, he would die a very happy man.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
“Do you think he heard me?” Megan asked in a hushed tone.
We watched from the kitchen as Conor and Penny talked. She was in his lap, chatting away, her arms in the air, going over one of her millions of stories. It was probably about Minecraft, or school, or Kane. It was all she talked about these days.
“Oh, he heard you,” I replied, evenly. “I saw it in his eyes when he walked in.”
Megan sighed, shooting me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Charlotte.”
“I know.”
“I was upset, and I reacted.”
“I understand why, but I wasn’t trying to keep him from you.”
“I know.”
“And if I was, it would never be because of that.”
“I know,” she repeated, sincerely. “Are you upset with me?”
I was definitely upset. I was going to have to have an awkward conversation with Conor about it. It being Locke. I was always going to tell him, but I wanted to at least do it at my own pace.
“It’s fine,” I managed out, genuinely. And it was fine, and it wasn’t fine, either. What it was, was a fucking mess, actually. I couldn’t blame Megan for reacting. He was her son. She loved him, and she would have wanted to see him straight away. “Calling you at three in the morning wouldn’t have worked, anyway. You were working.”
“That’s true.” Now she was saying whatever to conciliate me. “Why did he come here so late?”
“He walked from the motel Locke had dropped him off in.” When she gave me a questioning look, I shrugged. “I don’t know, either. We didn’t talk about it.”
I didn’t know whether Locke had dropped him off before he saw me or after. The jerk.
“What did he do all day before coming to you?”
“Again, no idea.”
“Well, what on earth did you talk about?”
I just gave Megan a look, and s
lowly she got the gist. She let out a dry laugh. “Oh, right. Not a lot of talking was had.”
I bit my lip to stop from smiling, but she nudged my shoulder, her face reddening as she stifled her laughter. I shook my head, embarrassed. When I looked back at them on the couch, Conor was staring intensely at me for a few seconds, and I swear it was like the world went still. Then it was back to Penny.
Megan caught the look and smiled dazedly. “He is crazy about you, even after all this time.”
“He’s…different, Megan.”
“I know.”
“You see it?”
She nodded sadly. “A mother sees all.”
I looked at her, pleading for her honesty. “Will he be okay, do you think?”
“He’ll be okay. You just have to give him time to remember.”
“Remember what?”
“Remember how to live.”
Megan stayed for the rest of the morning. She had joined them on the couch, practically glued to Conor’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. Penny had sprung out the photo album and was flipping through pictures, but she was hardly looking at them. Her starry eyes were pinned on her daddy, mesmerized and in love.
Jem had blown up my phone, sending me messages.
Locke sent me nothing.
And then I got a message that made my heart sink in my chest.
I heard Conor’s out. Tell him to come see me when he can.
I frowned at the message, wondering what in the fuck Reid wanted. Unable to resist, I shot back a response.
What do you want from Conor?
Within seconds, he answered. To welcome him home.
I pressed my lips together firmly, unimpressed. I was tempted to delete the messages and block his number right then and there, but I couldn’t do that. As much as I loathed the guy, he had been forced in my life recently, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.
Instead, I shot Locke a message.
Reid wants to talk to Conor. Do you have any idea why?
