by R. J. Lewis
“He wanted me to tell you he’s got over twenty-five car yards in his pocket. Business is booming and he wants you part of it.” Reid’s words sounded forced. He didn’t agree with coming here. It was kind of a cunt move on Dave’s part sending his son over. Then again, Dave had always been a fucking coward.
“Business is booming,” Thames beseeched, nodding like he gave a fuck. He didn’t. “Is this why you’re driving cars like you’re James Bond, cousin? I hear you’re throwing some wicked ass parties too. Did we get an invite?”
“I didn’t,” Jem said, crossing his arms.
“I guess we aren’t part of the cool crew. Just your catholic little friends, I take it. St. Catherine’s blessed kids?”
“St. Helen,” Reid corrected, bitterly. “How is that relevant to what I just said? I’m just fucking telling you what my old man wants. Leave my life out of it.”
“Ooh.” Thames rubbed his chest, feigning pain. “You trying to get cross on us now, Reid? You kiss your mama with those lips?”
“Dirty lips,” Jem admonished, shaking his head. “And under the lord too, Thames.”
“That’s okay,” Thames replied, smirking at Reid. “He’ll repent. Isn’t that the way, cousin? You hurt people and you repent? You drag girls through the mud, make their lives a misery because you can and then you repent? Praise the lord for his forgiveness.”
“Hallelujah,” Jem praised.
Thames smirk fell now as he stared hard at Reid. Jem was smiling and Locke was staring vacantly at the back of Reid’s head. Reid’s toughness waned.
This fucker.
This fucking fucker had been ruthless to Charlotte.
Thames had sensed her agony. It weighed on him. There was something that unsettled him deeply. Thames had left her premature, and the fucking wolves in this town had knocked her down, but he began to wonder if the scars ran deeper than that.
He tried hard to remember if Charlotte was this fragile. Was she as broken last time? He was so filled with lust that night, he didn’t know. All he did know was she was altered. There was a pain in her, masked and tragic. He knew the signs. He’d seen it in Ember one too many times, but the thing with Charlotte was she fought to keep her wounds closed. She would rather die than admit her weaknesses. He knew it because he was the same.
While Reid may not have been responsible for all the pain, he had taken great pleasure in making her miserable.
Reid looked back at Thames and said, “She wasn’t even a virgin when I met her. Did you know that?”
Bold fucker.
Red hot anger coursed through Thames’ veins. This fucker touched her, stuck his dick inside her, and now he was talking her down like she was some whore?
“Want to know a secret, Reid?” Thames whispered. He leaned forward and gestured with his hand for Reid to come closer, and when he did, Thames smiled and said, “Neither am I.”
Reid’s face fell. Not the reaction he was hoping for. “You can have her, man. She’s all yours.”
“Gladly.”
Thames caught Reid’s anger – his humiliation. He was mad with jealousy. Mad he had lost to his cousin. Not that it was even a competition or anything. But the fact he was mad enough to try and reduce her by stating she wasn’t a virgin was an ultimate low blow. Was he implying she was dirty? That shit didn’t fly for Thames. And besides, he liked dirty.
“Did you do it because I was with her?” Reid pressed suddenly, his anger making his face turn bright red. “Was it because you fucking loathe me? You couldn’t just let me be happy?”
“I’m not oblivious, Reid,” Thames retorted, sharply. “You hung her out to dry for cheating on you, but we all know you fucked around even while you were with her. Isn’t that right, Jem?”
Jem nodded. “Yeah, with that wispy girl. The one that looked like a moth.”
“Your face went all kinds of shades of red when I mentioned her in the car, didn’t it, cousin? You thought I’d sell you out right then.”
“Why didn’t you?” Reid shot back, fisting his hands together.
“Because I’m not a meddling fucker. I didn’t need her to think you were a cheater to choose me. She came willing, both figuratively and physically.”
That was a cheap shot, Thames knew. But, honestly, he thought of some lines in prison. You know, when it got dark and you had endless hours to rehearse shit you’d say when you saw the person you wanted to burn. Needless to say, that line had made it in his top five. It was also the least vulgar of the five and he was feeling a bit Christian.
“I fooled around a couple times,” Reid shrugged in defeat. “Nothing you wouldn’t have done, Thames. I didn’t think she was anything more until after, and I wanted her, man. I really did. That was a low blow.”
“You’re giving me your opinion like I asked for it,” Thames replied, smirking vacantly at him now. “I don’t give a rat’s fuck if you wanted her. Life’s unfair, weedy Reid. You have to fight for what you want, and if you lose to someone else, that’s your own fucking fault you weren’t better. No one wins playing by the rules.”
If he kept looking at Reid, he might have seen his eyes go red and mist over. But Thames gave the kid the decency to look away and let him have his weak ass moment. He didn’t regret a single word he just said. It was the truth. He saw Charlotte and he wanted her, and he didn’t act slow about it. He swooped in and wooed her, and it had nothing to do with fuckface Reid.
“What about my dad?” Reid asked, straightening his shoulders. “You going to look into his offer, or not?”
“Your dad’s a cunt and a liar. I’ll sit on the sidelines and watch him fuck himself over. If he’s smart, he’ll fuck off our territory and leave it to the professionals.”
“You haven’t been in the game in over two years.”
“Is that right, Locke?” Thames glanced over his shoulder at the suited psycho.
“It isn’t right,” Locke replied, pressing his lips into a firm line.
Reid looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve been out of Blackwater, but not out of the game. You don’t shit in your own bed.” Locke explained, shaking his head slightly. “Your dad’s operating out of a town. Your network is too small to sustain itself. You can’t blend in here like you would in a city. Your dad’s fucked, plain and simple.”
Jem looked over Reid’s shoulder and nodded in approval at Thames. They were all bullshitting Reid. Truth was, the operation needed at least three men and Thames had been incarcerated the last few years. Some of it was for stupid shit. Other times, like the most recent stint when police were planning on raiding Jem’s bar again, he had to throw himself under the bus as a distraction. The shop had to be paused, and it wasn’t so much an issue because they’d made a killing, enough they’d stashed a good-sized fortune away.
Maybe Uncle Dave would wake up and stop fucking around. Wasn’t it enough he had his brother’s auto shop? The same auto shop Thames grew up in, learning all the ins and outs of a car, realizing the beauty of an engine and how exhilarating it was to build something beautiful one simple part at a time?
Alec may have been a cunt of a dad at times. Thames had thrown his punches every time the idiot fell out of line, but Alec had his good moments too. Solid fatherly moments between the prison sentences – wasn’t that a sweet line? Alec was quick to anger, but also quick to calm down. All he needed was a solid ten minutes in front of a book, or in front of a car with the hood up, and all was right as rain again. He lost the plot by the end, drinking himself until his body shut down. Thames’ mother may have loathed her husband right before he died – the divorce spoke of her feelings clearly – but Thames understood him. Alec had lost himself in the rage and the moments he couldn’t change. The moments that destroyed his relationships around him. The moments anger had seized his insides and turned him into a monstrous, evil man. Apologies never cut it. The remorse turned into the form of sweet booze, and like Dave and all the other Thames’ in the family, he lock
ed himself away and drank the poison.
Maybe Dave was nearing the end, too. Maybe he was doing last ditch efforts to revive his old rebellion. Maybe he was giving himself a purpose again.
Whatever it was, Thames didn’t give a fuck. He lost all respect for the fucker the second he stole the shop from beneath him and acted like it belonged to him.
Fuck Dave and fuck his son, the cunning little cunt. Thames saw straight through Reid the second he’d turned into a shitty teenager, popping his collars and living an image he didn’t have the balls to truly live.
“I’ll let him know,” Reid stated, determined. Thames saw the loathing for him in the depths of his cousin’s eyes and wondered just how far it went. Was Reid capable of violence? Or was he more manipulative than that? Whatever it was, Thames knew he had to be a little more cautious around the parasite.
“Let me walk you to the door,” Thames replied, no humour in him anymore. It’d been sucked out the second the shit made his appearance. He didn’t want him to linger around the house anymore. He wanted him gone, away from Charlotte, away from his mother. Mostly, away from him, because Thames didn’t know if he could contain himself.
Reid didn’t protest. He wanted out and willingly let Thames walk him up the steps and to the front door, passing Charlotte along the way. She wasn’t looking at them as they passed, though. Her eyes were pinned to the front door. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
Thames followed her line of sight. There was a guy standing outside the screen door, his complexion so white, it was positively ghostly. He looked like Edwin Mullen. Wasn’t that the name? The obsessed vampire all the chicks dug? He didn’t fucking remember. Ember did his head in with those fucking posters. Didn’t matter. Point was, the guy looked like he belonged in a drug den – or a sunbed – than on the porch of his mother’s house.
As Thames approached him closer, he caught the guy’s eyes glued to Charlotte. Now, Thames’ senses were on high alert. Why the fuck was he looking at Charlotte? Why did Charlotte look so frightened?
“Who the fuck are you?” Thames growled, moving so quick, his own mind hadn’t registered. He shoved the druggie off the porch in one solid push and sent the vampire flying to the ground.
“Hey,” Reid quickly snapped, “that’s my dad’s guy, man. He came with me.”
Thames kept his gaze trapped on the fucker as he jumped back to his feet, rounding his shoulders like he was getting ready to fight. Then he looked over his shoulder – at Charlotte – and smiled.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Thames ranted, coming at him again.
Instead of backing away like any sane person would do, the fucker didn’t budge an inch as Thames stormed in front of him. He gripped him by the collar of his black shirt and squeezed, forcing the fucker to look at him.
“Who in the fuck do you think you are?” Thames seethed. “You look over my shoulder one more time, and I’ll cut your eyes out.”
“Let him go, Conor,” Reid sighed, coming to his side. “We’re leaving right now.”
Who was this fucker? Why was he suddenly smirking at Thames like he had a secret? Every raging impulse in Thames’ body was triggered. He felt his fist twitch. Felt the intense urge to paint the smirking fool’s face with blood. He didn’t look sane. He didn’t even look perturbed his collar had been scrunched and he was face to face with one of Blackwater’s most violent men.
And why was Reid still pleading for him to let go? Why the fuck did he care so much about this braindead zombie looking vampire?
“Conor,” his mother shouted. “Put him down! You are literally hours out of prison, for the love of God!”
But Thames’ hand only fisted tighter around the collar. He was still smirking, goading Thames with smiling eyes.
“You tryin’ to get beaten?” Thames growled, shaking him. “You want to fucking die, you little worm?”
No response, and now Thames couldn’t handle it. He felt like he had parted with his brain matter. His body was separate and it was blazing with nerves and triggers and violent urges.
“Conor,” a soft voice called out.
Charlotte.
Thames’ raging heart paused mid-beat.
“Let him go, Conor. Please.”
Her voice pierced through the fog. He cleared his head, took a deep breath, and let him go. His body was wracked with tremors, with surging adrenaline. He glared at the smirking fucker as Reid grabbed him by the arm and led him to the sportscar on the street. The fucker looked over his shoulder, slowly withdrawing a cigarette from his pocket. Thames watched every second as he slid into the car and lit it up, saluting him with a two-finger wave before Reid drove off down the block.
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte
Conor was shaking so hard, I thought he was having an attack. I watched him as he drove, pressing his foot against the gas pedal a little too hard at times. Every time the car surged forward, he would shake his head hard and slow down. He was never fast enough I’d feel unsafe, but he was wired.
After the strange altercation on the front porch, he cut the visit short and demanded I leave with him. Nobody protested, though everyone had witnessed what happened and probably thought he was insane for grabbing Billy the way he did. It had appeared so unprovoked, but I saw it. Saw the laughter in his eyes as he goaded Conor with a simple look.
My heart was racing in my chest. What the fuck was Billy even doing there? Reid had never talked to the guy. I’d expressed very simply once that I didn’t want anything to do with my stepbrother, and Reid had never asked about it. He’d go quiet, like he was respecting that the topic was personal. Would Reid stoop so low to come around with him? The obvious answer to that was yes. But why? Why do that?
“Who was he?” Conor bit out, suddenly. His voice was rough, angry. His eyes flashed with vehemence, and I tensed with worry.
I struggled to speak.
“Who was he?” Conor growled louder, squeezing the steering wheel. “An old boyfriend, Charlotte? One of the bullies at school? Answer.”
“My stepbrother,” I quickly replied, letting out a long breath.
Now he went quiet, thinking. If he was waiting for me to expand, I couldn’t. My lips were trembling. I hadn’t seen Billy in months. I’d just started to believe he had fucked off. How stupid of me. I would never escape him. He was always going to be around.
“Why was he looking at you like that?” Conor demanded, his voice steadier.
I forced a shrug. “That’s what he’s like, Conor.”
He wasn’t happy with that answer. “He was fucking with me, Charlotte. He was smirking his little fucking face off at me. You looked terrified. I saw your eyes.”
“I didn’t expect to see him.”
“Fucking hell.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Nobody said anything about you having a fucking stepbrother. Why the fuck is that? Why didn’t Jem mention that?”
I fought to keep the tears from falling. Glancing out the window, I took an unsteady breath. “Why…Why would Jem need to know that?”
“I wanted you to be okay when I was gone.”
“I was fine.”
Lie. Lie. Lie.
“He didn’t say anything about a stepbrother,” he gritted out slowly, angrily. “I’m not fucking getting it, Charlotte. He would have. Fuck, he should have.”
I thought of Jem snooping around my life. I hadn’t seen him do it, but he had passed along a lot of information about me being bullied in school. I wasn’t in any physical harm, so there was nothing much he could do about it – and I wasn’t going to ask him to, either.
“Has he hurt you?”
Conor’s question made me whip my head in his direction. He was fuming, but his face was that clear emptiness I knew meant more under the surface. His fingers rattled against the steering wheel. I knew his adrenaline was through the roof. I knew what he would do if I said yes. If I told him everything.
Megan’s words slammed into me. I understood what sh
e meant with more clarity now. Understood that Jem had probably purposely omitted information about my stepbrother. He wouldn’t know the bastard had violated me, but he would have learned that Billy was a bad shadow in town.
I found it striking that his own friend – his own mother too – would omit information to Conor for fear of his reaction. More than that, they didn’t do it maliciously either, but to protect him. To keep him from being destructive. To keep him away from prison. Even then, I knew it wasn’t going to work. It was like a kettle on boil. The more they tried to keep him away from these bad reactions, the hotter his reactions would be the second he blew.
But I was too scared right then to watch the kettle boil. I couldn’t bear to talk about Billy. I was traumatized. I was scared. I was…unsure if I’d done something to deserve it.
“No,” I responded, firmly. “Like I said, that’s just what he does.”
There was no way I wanted Conor involved. He would have turned the car back, hunted him down and hurt him. And I didn’t want Conor to get into trouble again. Billy wasn’t like Ember’s ex. He wouldn’t be scared into silence. Billy would parade his bruises and collapse into a police station, begging for help. I knew him well enough to know he would play the system instead of abuse it.
“I’m not buying it,” Conor said sternly. “That vapid little shit was pressing my buttons, but he was looking to you. He wanted to see your reaction. This shit has done something to you.”
“Yeah, he’s a bully.”
“No.” Conor shook his head, more to himself. “I took you to your house that night and you stared at it like you were going to your death. I thought maybe your parents were a bunch of oxygen thieving cunts, but it was him, wasn’t it? You didn’t want to run into him. You can deny it all you want, dove, but I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been in the slammer too many times to count, I know bad men when I see them. They enjoy inflicting pain, in a way not even I understand. They provoke and wait for a reaction. They do what that fucker just did, and let me tell you something, baby, these people are worse than the monsters in the night. They stalk, even in the day, and they wait for the perfect moment to strike.”
