Thorn: Carter Kids #2 (6 page)

“TEAGAN, LOOK AT ME
. Look at me.” Noah’s eyes were red and pained. “This is not your fault. Do you understand me? This is my fault, baby, and you’re not going down for it.”

The sound of sirens blasted through my ears and panic tore through me.

Noah hissed out a sharp breath. “The second this belt cracks, I want you to get out of this car and run.” He caught my chin between his fingers. “Do not stop running. Do not wait for me.”

I ran and ran until every breath left my body – until I couldn’t run any further.

Hiding behind a boulder on the side of the dirt road, I sank to my knees and wept.

Noah…

What was going to happen to him?

Oh god, I shouldn’t have left him there. I was a horrible person.

Every fiber of my being demanded I go back there and help him, do something, anything… but I couldn’t move.

I was frozen in fear.

In shock.

I must have stood in our kitchen for half an hour, frozen to the spot; waiting, wishing, hoping and praying until, finally, I couldn’t take anymore.

Walking down our short hallway, I opened the first door on the right and let myself inside. Hope was sitting on her bed, looking as numb as I felt. When she noticed my presence, she wiped her eyes and smiled brightly. “Hey babe,” she whispered, patting her bed.

Walking over to Hope’s bed, I climbed up and sat cross-legged, facing her. And then I asked the question I had been telling myself I didn’t need to know. “How long did he get?”

Hope stared at me for a long moment, chewing on her lip in deliberation, before finally answering me. “Five and a half years.”

I swear to god, the moment those words came out of Hope’s mouth, my heart shriveled up and died in my chest.

“That long?” I managed to squeeze out, as my breath came in short, fast puffs. “But I thought the lawyers were going to…”

“It didn’t work out that way,” she interrupted quickly. Taking my hand in hers, Hope smiled sadly. “Noah got himself into some more trouble and broke the conditions of his bail,” she told me. “He’s been in custody since we arrived here.”

“Is…is he okay?”

“Honestly, I don’t know, Teagan,” Hope replied. “He stopped all contact with my family over a month ago – says it’s easier that way. They went to court today, but he won’t see my father. He won’t even let Logan visit, and they were best friends.”

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” I admitted, voice torn. “I want to be there for him. I don’t want him to go through all of this on his own. I want…him. But I can’t get past what I saw,” I confessed, my words barely more than a whisper. “In my dreams it still haunts me, Hope. The image of her naked, sweat soaked body pumping my boyfriend, grinding her pussy all over him, taking him into her body… Oh god, saying the words out loud makes me feel physically sick.”

“Don’t,” Hope ordered, reaching out and grabbing my hand. “Don’t you dare torture yourself like this.”

“I’m still in love him, Hope…even though he’s dangerous and wrong for me and broke my heart for kicks,” I choked out. “He’s the love of my life.” Tears spilled down my cheeks. “He is everything and I love him…all the time. It
won’t
go away. I am stuck in a never-ending cycle of loving him, losing him, missing him, hating him, mourning him, waiting for him, and caring. It won’t stop and I can’t claw my way out. I feel like I am dying.”

And then I admitted to my best friend my darkest thought – the thought that made me hate myself more than I hated him. “Sometimes I regret leaving him.” Clasping the back of my head with my hands, I fought to catch my breath. “Sometimes I think that I would have been better off staying
with
Noah and letting him treat me the way he did – letting him cheat on me. Because at least then I would still
have
him and not this empty fucking hole in my life.” Shaking my head in self-loathing, I looked straight into her eyes. “How pathetic does that make me?”

“Noah fucking Messina,” Hope muttered after a long pause.

“Yeah,” I half laughed, half cried, “Noah fucking Messina.”

TIME IN PRISON PASSED BY A LOT
differently; long, fucking hard days. The only thing I took comfort in was my anger and the only thing that kept me company was my thirst for revenge.

Today marked my first month down out of a five and a half year prison sentence and the third month since I’d been remanded in custody for breaking my bail conditions.

Four of those years were my punishment for my involvement in the Ring of Fire. The remaining eighteen months were courtesy of the man in front of me who, in true asshole fashion, had pressed charges on me for breaking and entering.

“I must say, Messina, the orange jumpsuit becomes you.”

I clenched my fists and fought the urge to lunge across the table to rip Teagan’s uncle’s throat out.

That bastard loved this.

“What are you doing here, Max?” I ground out through clenched teeth. Everything about the man pissed me off. His crisp gray suit. His face. His fucking attitude.

Since my sentencing last month, I hadn’t seen a soul from the outside world. I had warned them not to come here. I needed to get used to my new life and having the Carter’s visiting me was just too fucking painful. I didn’t want their pity.

Having this dipshit here only added salt to my wounds. The fact that he had added eighteen months onto my sentence with his stupid fucking claims enraged me.

“Besides reveling in the fact that you’re behind bars?” Max taunted as he leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I’m here to discuss my niece.”

“What about her?” I found myself straightening in my seat, edging forward, perking up. “Is she okay?” I couldn’t pretend I didn’t care about Teagan. She had been my every thought for the last three months and hearing her name ruined me. Jesus Christ, I missed her so much. I was dying in here. I was dying without her. But my reaction gave Max exactly what he wanted.

Power over me.

“You were never good enough for her,” Max told me, setting a stack of envelopes on the table before pushing them towards me. “And you never will be.”

I knew the poorly written scrawl on each envelope. They were my pathetic attempt at contacting my girlfriend.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to stop my hands from trembling, before reaching forward and taking the half a dozen letters.

I felt like a fool for mailing them to Thirteenth Street, but I didn’t have any other option. That was the only address I had for her, and I guess deep down I had hoped that Teagan would somehow get them, read my truth, and come back to me.

I was used to being let down – fucking thrown to the wolves – but with Teagan, it was different. She wouldn’t leave me here to rot. She would come back. I had to believe she was coming back; if I didn’t, I wouldn’t fuck survive this.

“You can’t keep her away from me,” I said vehemently, fucking desperately as I balled the envelopes in my hand. Lee had told me to have faith. Well, I was trying. Problem was, all my faith was tied up in Teagan Connolly changing her mind about me. “She’ll come around,” I hissed, as rage bubbled inside of me. “What we have is real.”

“What you
had
,” Max corrected with a smirk. “And do you see her anywhere? No, of course you don’t. Because she saw your true colors and has come to her senses.” Smiling, he added, “Forget about my niece, Noah. By the time you’re out of this place she’ll be married with children.”

I watched numbly as Max shoved his chair back and stood. “Enjoy your stay,” he told me, plucking at the sleeves of his jacket. “You’re exactly where an animal like you belongs. In a cage.”

MAX SAID THAT I HAD LOST
Teagan and she was gone from me forever but I refused to believe that.

There had to be a way back for us.

Back in my cell, I tossed the poorly written letters on my table with too much force and watched as they scattered onto the floor. Then I proceeded to grab the mattress off my bed and drag it over to the wall.

Setting the piece of shit against the cold stone of my cell, I pummeled it, executing precise blows, pretending I was rearranging that asshole’s face.

I hated that bastard.

I fucking
hated
him.

Max was right about one thing though – I was a fucking animal.

But I didn’t have to be.

I could change my ways, make things right. Get an education and find a trade. I was never going to be a doctor, but surely I could fucking do something with my life? A construction worker or a plumber – something with my hands.

I just had to make it out of this place in one piece.

“Well I’ve heard some folk like to fluff their pillows, but I think you’re taking it to an extreme, Messina.”

I swung around when the sound of my cellmate’s voice infiltrated my mind.

Lucky Casarazzi stood in the doorway of our cell with his shaggy blonde hair styled, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and his tattoo covered arms crossed over his chest. He had a deep frown set on his face as he studied me with wary ice blue eyes. In truth, the guy looked like he belonged on a stage somewhere, headlining a rock concert, rather than slumming it in a prison cell with me.

But from the limited conversations we’d had since my arrival, I knew better than to judge him based on his appearance. He had shed the blood of a man, the same as me, and at the age of twenty-three had served my entire five and a half year sentence already. The guy was the best kind of bad you could find in a place like this.

“I’m working something out here, man,” I snarled, turning my attention back to my target, continuing my rampage. “Just give me a damn minute.”

Holding his hands up in the air, Lucky shook his head and muttered, “Have at it, man.” Stepping around me, he pulled himself onto the top bunk and settled down on his back. Tucking his arms behind his head, he let out a contented sigh. “So, is she a blonde or a brunette?”

Stopping what I was doing, I turned to face him. “What?”

“The girl you’re losing your shit over,” he replied calmly, staring up at the ceiling. “Is she a blonde or a brunette?”

Suddenly all the fight was gone from me. Dragging my mattress back onto the bunk, I sank down on the edge and let out a heavy sigh. “Blonde.”