Page 82 of Perfect

He paused before pushing his body closer and I felt a whoosh of relief. The thought of losing him and things going back to the way they used to be felt like a death sentence.

“No more hiding. I’ll tell you anything you want to know and please, don’t blame yourself. It was inevitable. He would have found us one way or another,” he said firmly and some of the guilt lifted. “I mean it, Harlow. You are not to blame yourself and besides, you saved me.You actually fucking saved me. You were so brave.”

His smile was warm. I was surprised he was even conscious at the point where I’d hit Carter with the beam, but his next comment made me realise his words went much deeper than that and hope resurfaced.

“You make me want to be a better person.”

I swallowed, almost overcome with emotion. “Really?”

“Yes, you are all I think about. I close my eyes and your face is all I see.”

A tear slipped down my cheek as a further surge of emotion poured through me and I cried. Hard and loud and Connor pulled me into his arms and held me tight. Cradling my sobbing body, allowing me to offload.

When I had managed to calm myself, I drew back and Connor dropped his arms, his eyes searching my face which would surely be stained with all sorts; dirt, tears and despair.

He wiped a tear away with his finger and leaned back. “I’ve never met anyone who can lift this darkness. Something I’ve carried my whole life, yet that’sexactlywhat you do. You take it away.”

I smiled, feeling my limbs start to relax.

“It may sound cringe, but it’s true Harlow. I’ve had it, running away and trying to hide from it, so—I will if you will…?”

I wasn’t quite sure what he was asking at that moment. My excitement and happiness about what he had just revealed had sent me into overload. All I knew was how to answer.

“I will, yes.Absolutely.”

He moved and covered one of my hands which rested on my lap with his own. His fingers were so long and capable-looking. “But we need to move slowly. Mike, my mother. They need time to understand.”

I nodded my head.

“These types of conversations are also better when I’m not pumped full of drugs.” I hadn’t realised the Doctor had given him a shot.

I thought back to my blunder and what a major fuck up it was. “I’m still sorry Connor.”

“I know.”

There was another one of those silences as we sat there together and I felt the anxiety I had experienced moments ago, start to dissolve.

Connor curled his fingers into my own and I placed my free hand just above his wrist on his tattooed arm. He didn’t pull away but I could see he wasn’t comfortable with the area I touched. I could now clearly see the welted pattern created by what looked like scars on his inked arm. Tom had alluded to burns, Ihadn’t been able to comprehend what type of person could do that to a child, so I had pushed it out of my mind. It was too painful to consider.

Connor seemed to read my thoughts.

“When I was ten and scratched my old man’s car, he poured water from the kettle on my arm, boiling water. Said it’s only right to disfigure me the way I had his beat-up piece of shit.”

Pain jetted into me. “My God Connor, that’s horrendous.”

His eyes glazed over as if he were reliving the incident and I knew I had to pull him back. Now wasn’t the time to be facing those demons.

“I think what you’ve done is beautiful.”

I moved my fingers along the pattern on his arm. If Connor wanted to confide the whole story to me, there were better times. And at that moment, I was too weak to process something so monstrously evil.

I allowed the short silence before saying.

“How did the fight start?”

I was careful with my choice of words. I needed to draw the answers from him without revealing the rumours I’d already been fed.

After a reassuring squeeze, Connor released my hand and moved back into the position he must have found the most comfortable, propped up against the pillows.

---