They'd both done some horrible things to each other over the years, but this.....this was crossing the line. This was sick, vicious and low even for Connor. If she wasn't so damn sure that she was falling for the bastard, she would have laughed off his declaration of love, shoved him off and walked away without a second thought. Instead, she was trapped beneath him, struggling against the need to act like a girl and cry as she screamed and slapped him for this sick joke.
"I love you, Rory," he said softly as he gently caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles as he gazed down at her, a small smile touching his lips that just went to piss her off even more.
"Stop," she begged, trying to push him away, but the damn man refused to move.
"Rory, I-"
"If you say that you love me one more time, I swear to God that I will kill you with my bare hands," she said evenly as she shoved at his shoulders one more time and this time, with a small groan, he moved away from her.
She didn't waste any time in getting off the bed and going to the bathroom to find her clothes. As she yanked on her shirt, she mentally berated herself for being so stupid. She should have never slept with him, never mind going along with this deal. She'd been an idiot to think that she could handle Connor. She'd never been able to before and she didn't know why she thought that she could handle him now.
God, she was such a fool. The moment that she realized that she was feeling something for the bastard, she should have called off this ridiculous deal of theirs and figured out another way to get her suites. Instead, she used excuse after excuse to give and take what she wanted and now she was paying for it. She'd had her heart broken by several men before, how could she not?
They treated her like a fuck buddy, someone that they wanted to get off with. When they became bored or something better came along, they moved on, leaving her feeling worthless. As much as it hurt to be treated like crap it didn't even begin to compare to what it felt like to have her heart broken by Connor.
"We need to talk," Connor said, coming up behind her just as she finished pulling her jeans on, and wrapped his arms around her.
"Get your goddamn hands off of me, Connor!"
"No, we need to talk," he said, tightening his hold, but not enough to hurt her, when she tried to pull away.
"The deals over, Connor! I'm done! You finally won, okay? You won!" she cried, struggling against his hold with everything that she had, but he refused to let go even as she kicked, rammed her elbow into his side and thrashed in his arms as the first tear rolled down her cheek. She didn't want him to see her cry, refused to let him know just how badly he'd hurt her.
"The deal doesn't matter, Rory. The suites are yours," he rushed out on a grunt when she managed to turn slightly to the left and slammed her elbow in his stomach, desperate to get away from him.
"I don't want them!" she screamed, hating herself when a sob broke through.
"Baby, please calm down," Connor pleaded, tightening his hold on her.
"Let me go!"
"Not until you hear me out."
"I don't want to hear you out, you lying, life ruining bastard! I hate you, you asshole!" she barely managed to get out through the sobs.
For a moment he didn't say anything and she was thankful for that, but even happier when he finally released her. She quickly stepped away from him and headed for the bathroom door and her escape when his next words stopped her short.
"I'm sorry about that night, Rory. I'm sorry for so many fucking things," he said, his voice hoarse.
"You shouldn't have come that night," she said tightly, forcing herself to face him.
"I regret a lot of things about that night, but I don't regret that," he said, meeting her glare with a hard look of his own.
"You ruined my life that night," she said quietly, not bothering to wipe the tears away as they streamed down her cheeks.
"I know."
"If you hadn't come that night-"
"You would have had to deal with something far worse than losing your scholarship, Rory," Connor said, cutting her off.
Frowning, she asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"
For a moment he only looked at her and just when she thought that she was finally about to get her answers after all of these years, he shook his head and moved to step past her. "Ask your brothers."
No, he was not about to do this to her on top of everything else. They were going to finish this tonight.
"I'm asking you, Connor," she said, stepping in front of him and blocking his path.
"It would be better if it came from one of your brothers," he said, trying to step past her, but she was done playing this game with him.
"It would be better if it came from you and while you're at it, you can tell me why you followed me up there in the first place," she demanded, making it clear that she wasn't moving until he finally gave her the answers that she'd been waiting years for.
"Are you sure that you want to hear this?" he asked, resting his hip against the sink counter as he waited.
"Yes," she said with absolutely no hesitation. She desperately wanted to know what happened that night, why he was there and why he couldn't just leave her the hell -
"I came up there to talk to you about something, but when I got there you were already the life of the party. For weeks, months really, I'd been trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but the moment that I saw you, I lost my nerve," he admitted with a small rueful smile.
"What did you come to talk to me about?" she found herself asking as she leaned back against the door.
"I sat back, not sure what to do," he said, continuing with his story and for the moment she allowed it. "I hung back for a few hours, trying to work up the nerve to approach you," he explained, surprising her. Since when was he nervous about approaching her?
"Just when I decided to put it off, I saw you stumble across the dance floor. It was more than obvious that you were drunk. The guy that you were with definitely figured that out," Connor ground out, suddenly looking pissed. "I hung out for another minute, hoping that your brothers would step in, but none of them did. So, when the asshole dragged you, stumbling and giggling out the backdoor, I followed."
"I don't really remember any of this," she admitted, frowning as she struggled to remember something, anything about that part of the night, but it was useless.
"I'm not surprised, Rory. You were pretty wasted by that point. You couldn't even walk without help," Connor explained as she noticed for the first time since this whole thing started that he'd pulled on a pair of jeans, but left them unbuttoned, that along with his casual pose and mussed hair made him look sweet and sexy. He certainly didn't look like a life ruining bastard or someone who enjoyed screwing around with someone's heart.
"Get to the point," she said, needing to hear how he ruined her life so that she could build up a defense around her heart and hate him so the pain would end.
Connor looked away, his jaw clenched tightly as he said, "By the time I got out to the alleyway, the asshole was trying to shove you down behind the dumpster."
"H-he didn't," she said, stopping to wet her suddenly dry lips when the words refused to leave her mouth. It didn't matter if she remembered it or not. Knowing that some guy had hurt her like that would be difficult to get over. As she waited for his answer, she hoped that Connor had gotten there in time. Please let him have gotten there in time, she prayed as dread coiled around in her stomach.
"He didn't have a chance to hurt you, Rory. I promise you that he didn't hurt you," he said softly, but wouldn't look at her.
"What aren't you telling me?" she demanded, afraid that he was lying to protect her from the truth.
"There's nothing else to tell, Rory. You know the rest," he said, shaking his head as he pushed away from the counter and moved to step past her, but she wasn't ready to drop this.
"No, I don't," she said, planting her good hand against his chest, stopping him from ending this conversation before she got
the rest of her answers.
"He pulled a knife. We ended up in jail. Case closed, end of story, let it go," he said firmly, gently pushing her hand away and this time he managed to walk away from her and was halfway to his bedroom door when she asked, "And how did we land in jail and him in the hospital if he was the one with the knife, Connor? Huh?" she demanded, walking after him and cutting him off before he could make it to that door and walk away from her, taking the answers that she desperately wanted to know with him.
"How did my life get wrecked, Connor? Tell me," she demanded. When he clenched his jaw and didn't answer, she screamed it. "Tell me!"
"You wouldn't listen to me!" he snapped, grabbing her by the arms and giving her a shake, not hard enough to hurt her, but it was enough to stun her. "I told you to get your ass back in the bar, but you wouldn't listen! You should have fucking listened to me, Rory!" Another shake. "Do you have any idea how close I came to losing you that night? Do you?" he practically roared in her face as he pushed her back up against the wall and got in her face, clearly done with avoiding this subject.
"I begged you to go inside, Rory, but even drunk you're a stubborn pain in the ass!" he snapped, glaring down at her. "When that asshole pulled out a knife, you got pissed and went to punch him. I almost didn't get between you in time! Do you have any idea how close that piece of shit came to stabbing you? Do you?" he demanded, sounding angrier and angrier with each passing second when all she could do was stand there, desperately trying to catch her breath as his words sank in.
"How did he get stabbed, Connor?" she asked, reaching out and grabbing onto him as a wave of dizziness tore through her head with the possible knowledge that she was the reason the man ended up in the hospital having one of his kidneys removed.
"He fell on the knife when I tackled him to the ground," Connor said, his tone more gentle as his grip on her arms turned supportive.
"But in the police report he said that you attacked him," she mumbled, desperately trying to wrap her mind around everything he'd told her and figure out how the hell they'd gotten off when it was the other guy who ended up in the hospital when there hadn't been any witnesses to back them up. She'd tried to get her hands on the police report a few times over the years, but because the case was closed and she wasn't a Canadian resident, her request had been denied.
"I know what he said, Rory, but his story didn't add up," Connor explained softly.
"What are you talking about, Connor? There were no other witnesses and he's the one that got hurt. How exactly didn't his story add up?"
Locking his eyes on her, he gently took her good hand off his arm and placed it on the left side of his chest. When she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, he glided her hand over his chest. It took a moment before a small raised line registered and when it did, she shook off his hand and traced her fingers over the three inch scar that she'd never noticed before. Not that anyone would have really had a chance to see the scar with his tattoo covering the area.
When he raised his left hand, palm out, her eyes landed on a long thin scar that ran across it. Without a word, she reached up with a shaky hand and traced the thin scar that ran across his palm that she'd always assumed was from working construction.
"Defensive wound," she said numbly as she dropped her hand to her side.
"Yes," Connor said, pushing away from the wall and moving away from her. When he sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped his head in his hands, it surprised her how badly she wanted to go to him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, leaning her head back and looking up at the ceiling, desperately trying not to lose it as something occurred to her.
He hadn't ruined her life.
That was all her. She'd ruined her life by getting drunk and going off with some asshole. She'd put them both in that situation and because of her, Connor had been hurt.
"There was no point in telling you, Rory. It was done."
"You were in the cell with me the next morning, Connor. How did you manage that if you were injured?" she asked, trying to find a hole in his story, instinctively knowing that she wouldn't find any. For all his faults, Connor was not a liar.
"I let them stitch me up and then left against medical advice when they wanted me to stay the night," he explained softly.
"Why?" she found herself asking even though she wasn't really sure that she could handle anything more tonight.
"I couldn't stomach the idea of you being in a jail cell like that, Rory. By the time the ambulance came, you were already having problems. I made them bring you to the hospital, but they only kept you there long enough to give you some fluids before they released you to the police."
"Why did my father hit you?" she asked, wondering if her father knew Connor's role in everything. She doubted it. Her father would never strike someone that protected one of his children.
"He didn't know what happened. The only thing that he knew was that I followed you to Canada and that you were arrested, facing some pretty serious charges."
"You could have corrected him on that," she said, feeling her eyes tear up once again. She hated crying, didn't want to do it, but damn Connor if he didn't have her close to crying her eyes out.
"You had enough to deal with, Rory. It was simpler for me to take the brunt of his anger."
Taking a slow, steady breath, she dropped her gaze to Connor and for the first time in years she didn't know what to feel when she looked at him. She couldn't hate him, wanted to, but she couldn't. He'd saved her, cared for her and protected her and she'd been an absolute bitch to him over the years, not that he didn't deserve some of it, but there was no way that he deserved all of it.
"Why did you come after me, Connor?" she whispered, praying that he wouldn't say or do anything else that would rock her world. She really didn't know how much more she could take.
"In the top drawer," he said, tilting his head to the side so that he could watch her.
Heart pounding in her chest, she walked over to his bureau. She threw him one last look to find him sitting there with his head once again in his hands and she couldn't help but wonder just how bad this was going to be. After taking a fortifying breath, she reached up and opened the drawer.
It slid out easily, but that wasn't exactly surprising since there wasn't much inside, not much at all. In the middle of the drawer sat a small velvet jewelry box.
"What is this?" she asked, swallowing nervously as she picked it up.
"Your birthday gift, Rory."
Her hands shook so badly that she almost dropped the box, twice, but after a minute she managed to open it. Her chin trembled as she traced the tiny diamond with the tip of her finger. It was the smallest diamond ring that she'd ever seen, but it was without a doubt the most beautiful one that she'd ever laid her eyes on.
She pulled the ring out of the box for a closer look when something inside the ring caught her eye. Swallowing hard, she turned the ring over until the dim bedroom light hit the inscription just right and when it did, she almost dropped it as she read the three letters engraved on the ring.
LRJ
Chapter 29
Him and his big fucking mouth.
If he'd just kept his mouth shut and his feelings for her to himself, at least for a little while, they wouldn't be sitting here rehashing all of this bullshit. This wasn't how he wanted her to find out. Actually, he never planned on telling her, but he knew the moment that he walked into that bathroom to face her that the choice was no longer his to make. Now she knew what a pathetic asshole he really was.
"What does LRJ stand for?" she asked softly as she knelt down in front of him.
"Little Rory James," he admitted with a sad smile, knowing that he'd truly gone and fucked up his one chance with her.
"May I?" she asked, gesturing with her broken hand to his chest. With a small nod, he leaned back and wasn't too surprised when she traced her fingers over her initials that he'd had tattooed all those years ago when he'd had a littl
e bit too much beer and not enough common sense not to tattoo the name of a woman who hated him on his body. He'd been young and foolish and now he just felt old and stupid.
"The suites are yours, Rory," he said when he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"I know," she said softly as she continued to trace the letters, looking mesmerized by the tattoo.
"The deal's off, too," he needlessly explained, licking his lips and trying not to moan when her fingers teasingly traced over his nipple.
"Yes, it is," she said, running her fingers to the other side of his chest while he sat there, trying to remain unaffected, but it was nearly impossible with Rory touching him.
"What were you hoping to get out of this deal?" she asked, slowing her movements as she looked up and met his gaze.
"It doesn't matter," he said truthfully, because none of it mattered without her, not Strawberry Manor, not his business, nothing. It might have taken him a while to figure it out, but he knew that the only thing that mattered to him was Rory. Her touches gave him hope that they might have a future, but he wasn't a fool. He'd pissed her off and she'd be justified in toying with him.
"Not going to tell me?" she asked, cocking a brow in question as she moved closer, resting her broken arm across his leg as her other hand slid up his chest and over his shoulder.
"It doesn't matter any longer, because I don't want it," he confessed, unable to stop himself from reaching up with one hand and cupping her beautiful face.
"Then what do you want?" she asked, moving closer until their lips were only a few inches apart.
"You," he simply said.
"Why?" she asked, looking a little confused.
"Because I'm in love with you, Rory," he answered, wondering if she was going to try and kick his ass for saying it again.
"You love me," she said, not asked as she leaned back, robbing him of her touch, but he let her go. What other choice did he have? He knew Rory well enough to know that if he pushed her for something that she didn't want that she'd push right back. For the first time since he met her, he was terrified of pushing her.