“Yes,” Rory 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,” Connor admitted with a rueful smile.
“What did you come to talk to me about?” Rory found herself asking as she leaned back against the door.
“I sat back, not sure what to do,” Connor 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 talking to 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 had 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,” Rory admitted, frowning as she struggled to remember something, anything about that part of the night, but she couldn’t.
“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 had 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,” Rory said, needing to hear how he’d ruined her life so that she could build up a defense around her heart and hate him so that this 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,” Rory 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 prayed that Connor had gotten there in time. Please let him have gotten there in time, she hoped as dread coiled in her stomach.
“He didn’t have a chance to hurt you, Rory. I promise you that he didn’t hurt you,” Connor said softly, but wouldn’t look at her.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Rory demanded, afraid that he was lying to protect her from the truth.
“There’s nothing else to tell, Rory. You know the rest,” Connor 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,” Rory said, planting her good hand against his chest, stopping him from ending this conversation.
“He pulled a knife. We ended up in jail. Case closed, end of story, let it go,” Connor 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?” she demanded, walking after him and cutting him off before he could make it to the door and walk away from her, taking the answers that she desperately wanted with him.
“How did my life get wrecked, Connor? Tell me,” Rory demanded. When he clenched his jaw and didn’t answer, she screamed it. “Tell me!”
“You wouldn’t listen to me!” Connor 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!” Connor 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 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?” Rory asked, reaching out and grabbing onto him as a wave of dizziness tore through with the 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 gentler as his grip on her arms turned supportive.
“But in the police report, he said that you’d attacked him,” Rory mumbled, desperately trying to wrap her mind around everything he’d told her and figure out how they’d gotten off when it was the other guy who’d 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 with hers, Connor 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 her 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 it.
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 in construction.
“Defensive wound,” Rory said numbly as she dropped her hand.
“Yes,” Connor said, pushing away from the wall. 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?” Rory 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.
