Page 61 of Locke 2

The second the door opened, I practically flew inside, unaware of the leaves I’d invited inside, crunching beneath my shoes. The front room was invitingly warm. I’d barely kicked my shoes off when heavy footsteps cut through the air followed by an angry growl.

“Locke, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

My blood drained as I gaped up at the large figure standing before us, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed on Locke.

Conor Thames was here, and behind him was a grinning Jem.

Twenty-Seven

Kali

Locke and Conor looked like they wanted to kill each other, but I wasn’t sure who would come out winning. Both were the same height. Same build. Same scary edge, though Locke’s crazy ran deeper.

Locke’s voice came out in an accusing snarl. “Jem.”

Jem, still amused, shrugged. “I didn’t tell him where you were. I would never do that.”

Conor smiled mockingly at Locke. “You showed Charlotte all your ways. She can track you with her eyes closed.”

At that, Conor glanced at me, and I knew what he meant. She’d found me before Locke did. She’d beaten him by minutes. When Conor picked me up from that alleyway, he didn’t blaze out of town like a bat out of hell. He had strategically taken alleyways before falling into traffic, never once breaking the road rules, but I’d heard the hustle behind us. The screeching of tires as cars took off around us, Locke’s men in hot pursuit of me.

One of those cars belonged to Locke.

He’d gotten so close and didn’t know it.

I couldn’t help the guilt that rose to the surface at that reminder. Of his anguish and need and my desperate desire to keep him far enough away.

“I’m not hiding from Charlotte, or you,” Locke returned. “This isn’t about you.”

“You took off without a word,” Conor argued. “Blackwater can’t run without you. You wanted it that way, remember?”

“I’m coming back.”

Conor shook his head. “Not with her.”

Locke had that lethal calm about him as he uttered, “Try and stop me.”

A flash of anger cut through Conor. He gritted his teeth. “This isn’t the fucking way, Locke.”

“I haven’t kidnapped her.”

Yet,I wanted to add.

He hadn’t kidnapped meyet.

Yet despite the wrongness of it, I felt a warm buzz beneath my skin at the thought of Locke gripping me by the hair and forcing me into his car. I spent an embarrassing amount of downtime imagining being chased again by him, and the feel of his body crashing into mine. Like the first time, he would make sure to take the impact of the fall and leave me in one piece. It was the small, considerate things like that, that had surprisingly mattered to me in later reflections.

Jem rounded them, stopping at my side. His eyes were dancing with excitement as he watched the tense exchange.

“Congratulations,” Conor returned, dripping with sarcasm. “That’s a real fucking achievement, Locke. I promised Charlotte I’d keep it that way, so the only way I’m leaving is with you at my side.” His voice dropped lower as he added in a half-whisper, “We agreed when the time came, I’d need to save you from yourself.”

I took a step forward, opening my mouth to intervene. Conor needed to know this was my doing—

Jem’s hand gripped my arm. He tugged me to his side, whispering, “No, no, let them have their row. This shit’s been building for a while.”

“Jem,” Conor warned, overhearing him.

Jem flashed a smile. “I’m just saying, Conor, you don’t have your wife at your side to stop you, so it may as well happen now. Sometimes a good punch up settles things.”

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