Thank you to the lovely person who asked about this story for letting me know you liked the start! Today, I have chapter two for you!
He was not able to get any sleep. He was here, in some safe house. The ground was hard under him, this improvised bed so very different then his own. Mexico. It was all behind him. Leaving Nunez behind, leaving his life behind. And for what? His mind was going over the events of the past few days, little blurs coming back to him as he tried to get some sleep, there in the dark.
'Let me reiterate. Screw both of you, with something pointy.'
He stood in between Miles and his dad, in some safe house just outside town. It was dark and the sun barely got it. Apparently when the bitch blonde asked them to jump, Miles asked how high.
'I am now walking into some camp because some whack job blonde tells me to.' His dad did not disagree with him.
'This is serious kid.' Bass told him.
His dad had ordered him into the other room, closing the door. Leaving them with the two of them.
'I agree with you, Rachel is a boatload of crazy.' He said in a whispered harsh tone. And then his dad talked on about how Miles really loved her, and if they wanted their republic back, that would be with Miles' on their side of the line. So at the end of the day, he had ended up going with his dad and Miles, to get that antidote they needed.
His dad, he was here. Alive. His dad was Sebastian Monroe. The Sebastian Monroe showed up in Mexico, in the bar where he got his drinks, after Connor got a warning three out of towners had made their way to the bar.
He had looked into his eyes, as he stood there, in Nunez's office, between the man that raised him, took him of the streets and the man that should have been there.
The only home he had now gone, after his mom had sent him away and the man named Miles left him behind in a tiny nothing town in Mexico. That home had disappeared again when his aunt and uncle had died after sickness had swept the town almost clean. He had felt it again. The past. Like some stray dog, roaming the streets alone. He had a home, was slowly getting used to a new country, a new language he did not speak, boys his age looking down on him, only one friend, remembering his mom, in another country, back in Jasper. He slept in dark cold corners, in silent alleys, begged for food, always the begging. Waiting, crawling away at night to get through another night. Alone.
Anger, sharp anger. Anger for so much. But then his dad eyes had found his, in the middle of the large room of the Nunez estate and a storm of emotions had hit him like some torpedo. Nunez had talked about the fact that he has was Monroe's blood and when he met the eyes of the man that was his father , those word got meaning, how much he tried to not let them.
He had talked to his dad in his cell, and again, more of the man, of Sebastian Monroe, had pierced through. He already felt it, in so many ways, that he was looking into a mirror. Seeing so much of himself in that man, seeing so much of that man in himself. Anger, more anger. Anger that he let him in, that his life was pulled upside down again.
It had been Miles that knocked him on the head, it had been his dad that could have escaped, but he didn't. Giving back his gun, pointing it at himself, telling him he was the hero, moving back into his cell. And then, his dad, hanging there, ropes around his wrists, the whip in his hands as he let it crash on his dad's back. Showing his loyalty to Nunez, with his father's words in his mind.
It should have felt good, it should have been his revenge, it should have made him feel the opposite of what he felt with every sickening noise the whip made. He had felt it, and there was no way back.
His dad had locked eyes with him, and Connor had realised what his dad was doing.
Doing for him. It was the beginning of the end at his life in Mexico. Another life he left behind, another life that was not there for him to go back to.
Do you know who worries about weakness? Another disappointment, another home that did not last.
He looked around him. It was dark in the safe house. Miles and the blonde were asleep in the corner. Charlie was asleep not far from them.
The first time he saw her, was in the quarantine camp, and her hands had been working with speed, giving everyone sick and on the stretchers in the tent the antidote he had just gotten from Truman's office, when he went over there with his dad and Miles.
Her body was fit, strong. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, a wide mouth. Even tired and her skin faintly covered in sweat, she looked good.
'So, you are Monroe's kid?'
'Really, you want do to a meet and greet now?' he had not believed his ears.
Later, when they were back at the safe house, she had introduced herself as Charlie. Charlie. He knew that name, he had heard it on the road here. Miles had mentioned her, with a warning in his voice. The blonde eyes on him. She was her daughter, but there was no ice in her eyes, like Rachel. He could not yet figure her out, but he wanted to get to know her better.
'Connor.' He held out his hand, and she had just smirked at him.
'Charlie.' She looked at him, with exploration in her eyes. She did not shake his. Making him shrug his shoulders. Miles and Rachel walked past them. He could tell she was keeping her distance, but she was not unfriendly.
She left not much later to hunt, leaving him behind, wanting to know what her story was.
'So, what are you up to?' he had tried to make some small talk.
'I am off hunting in a bit.' She crossed her arms before her chest.
Connor was ready to snort, thinking she was joking until he saw the crossbow behind her, the knife on her belt around her waist. She was not joking.
'Need some help there?' He was bluffing, he never ever hunted, well, not seriously. Not like she was about to.
She just grinned at him.
'Nah, I'll be fine.' She had turned around, grabbed her stuff and had walked past him. On her way out, she had threw him some food and blanket. Then she walked into the twilight, the last light of the day falling on her hair.
She was asleep not far from him, one hand close to her side. He watched her. Rolled over in frustration. He had left Mexico and ended up here, in the middle of a typhus outbreak, in the middle of a war.
It had been a long week, his other life across the border dissolved. On the way here Connor got a nice little treat in the form of a blonde that rubbed him the wrong way since the start. Miles was bitching against his dad, Rachel was bitching and whining to his dad, about him. God, that woman Rachel was a piece of work. Throwing cold remark after cold remark with icy blue eyes at his dad.
It was getting old real fast and he knew his dad had given him the whole we need Miles speech but that woman. Maybe she was even worse than Miles, who was turning out not that bad from what he had seen.
He rolled over to his other side. His dad in front of the steps that were in front of the shutters that closed their safe house cellar, shotgun in his hand, asleep.
She died asking for you. His dad's words, again. She was dead. His mom, the mother he remembered, her soft hands, her sweet perfume, her kind smile. She was gone, and there had not even been time to grieve. Just like that, he knew she was not living her life anymore.
The only thing that was his, the one thing Connor carried with him through all those years and was with him now in the pocket of his jacket, was the old fading photograph of him and his mom. And there in the dark, the hollow grieve, the pain and old question what he did wrong for her to send him away, kept him company as an old friend that he knew now for so long. The friend that had been there on those long nights out there on the streets, when he was lonely and so alone. It was keeping him company silently on this night in Texas.
Fourteen days later
They talked, he watched her flat belly under those tanks she wore so well. strong defined muscles under golden tanned skin. She was actually showing a bit more of herself of him, which was a surprise. A nice one, but still a surprise. They made a fire, the darkness of another night covering them, at their camping place close to New Vegas. Their wagon close and so was she, so was Charlie.
After Nunez, after Willoughby he was now in Vegas. New Vegas. The trip up here had been a week, and should have been a kind of men's trip, until Charlie had moved her body with ease into the wagon, throwing her bag in first. Her father had asked her who invited her, Charlie had snapped back at him who says it is up to you. He had been watching, paying attention. Although he knew by now where Charlie stood when it came to his dad, finding him a bastard, he was not sure about his dad. He had seen him around Rachel and Miles. The doctor. But with her, he was a bit different. He had not protested, and so, it had been a men's trip, plus Charlie.
She was good company. She hunted. Did not complain. Was strong. Knew how to take care of herself.
They had walked into Vegas, Charlie between him and his dad, on their way to a warlord, to see if they could negotiate their way towards more men, men they really needed. It did not take long for them to find her. Duncan Paige was a firing woman, and she knew his dad. Not Jimmy King, no, she had called him Sebastian. It did not take long for Charlie to have her gun in the woman's face, while he was still trying to catch up with what the hell was going on. She stood there, not moving an inch, and oh, she was one sight for sore eyes.
And now, his dad was out there, negotiating with that warlord, as Charlie and himself, were kind of kicked out that meeting. Charlie had raised an eyebrow at her dad as they exited the tent. Connor had seen the irritation in Charlie's eyes. They had walked around Vegas, wandering in the alley's between the tents and the night of buzzing activities that the city offered. Her shoulders relaxed, her frame next to him.
'I got to admit, I was wrong about you,' he said.
Charlie had not said anything, since she left Duncan Paige and Monroe behind. She felt pissed, pissed at him, for kicking them out like some kids with a stupid arrogant smirk. She was learning to work with Monroe, realising there was more than she thought he would be. Knowing, still realising he had saved her life in Pottsboro. But him treating her like some child now, that feeling, she got from so many others as well, had rubbed her the wrong way. She was back in Vegas, back in the city she once travelled to kill him. She would not kill him anymore, but the line between him and her was fine, and right now she was upset. She did not want to be. She would not allow herself to be. She paid attention to her surroundings, to the sounds and the tents.
And now she paid attention to Connor. He was tall beside her, walking next to her, although there was still some space between them. He was cute. He really was. Had a good smile, nice eyes. Could be kind of a puppy too, a spoiled puppy, but there was also something else.
'That so?' She raised one eyebrow at Connor.
'I thought you were just some chick. I mean, back home the girls put root beat on their lips, not pulling out guns.'
'Well, I'm not like the girls at home, am I?'
'No, you are definitely not,' Connor smiled at her.
She smiled, looking in front of her. Charlie noticed that he was paying attention, looking at her, seeing her. It felt kind of nice. He was kind of nice. Maybe.
'What?' he had wanted to know, realising, she was flirting back. His eyes went over her body. Went to her wide grin, her soft lips and her eyes again.
They had kept on walking, taking a left turn at another tent, leaving the city behind, on their way back to their wagon.
He was close to her, the light and sounds of the fire close.
'Move over,' she smirked at him, as she found a place next to him. her eyes on the skin just above hsi shirt, his eyes on her.
They talked until all of a sudden they were not talking anymore.
Connor had been with girls. A lot of girl. But oh, he was right when he told Charlie she was not like most of the girls at home. Because she really wasn't. She was like a big wave, crashing over him. Taking him by surprise.
He had moved his hand over to her arm, when she had slowly moved towards him, a flirting smirk on her beautiful face.
He had tried before. And it had taken him a while to understand that she was playing him, mocking him, when he had tried to tell her the story where he had those guns on him when they had to get those meds. She had not bought it, and he was not used to that. Which only made his interest in her even bigger.
Charlie. The girl who had wanted to do a meet and greet in the middle of that patriot camp.
Charlie. The one he saw struggling with his dad every day. Who had to take a lot of mother crap from Rachel. Who had a strong bound with Miles.
Charlie. Strong, not like the girls at home, her gun aimed at the one warlord his dad and they came looking for in this tent city full of gambling, drinks and hookers.
Charlie, now the girl before him, her slender body and her weight against his hand as her hands disappeared under his jacket, her warm fingers devouring his back.
His eyes on her, his fact that he was cute. The fact that she loved his touch, her body waking up, needing this, needing to let go, give in, just for a while. Something else than bloodshed and fighting and arguing with her mom and the betrayal of her grandpa.
He was cute, his touch sweet. Maybe too sweet for now, but that is way she went all in, picking up the speed and intensity. She was not wasting any time.
His interest in her grew, but now, when she was drawing him in, and she did not leave him exactly any choice, he did what he really needed to do.
Which was kiss her back, draw her closer. Both of his hands going through her hair, then a hand on her back, pressing him further against her. He moved over her, his hands on her tank, as she started on his shirt. They explored each other, his fingers finding her shoulder, her arm, Her hips, her skin against his, her fingers going over his arms. She took him with her to the ground and he decided to give in, give in to Charlie. He moved over her, kissing her, kissing all of her. His fingers toucing that one intimate spot. Wanting to give her pleasure, showing her what he could do to her. Their pants moved to the ground, releasing each other from fabric until it was just her, just him.
Charlie let out a whispered moan, when she felt how hard he was, smirked when he whispered something in Spanish in her ear, deciding to silence him with a deep kiss.
And when her legs moved around his waist, it was the last push for him to move inside of her, all the way, leaving him with no other possibility of letting out a curse and groan as he watched her face change.
Charlie surprised him again, with her fire and her eagerness.
Connor felt so good, inside of her, his body all over hers. She grabbed his ass to encourage him. She did not need slow or soft, she needed fast and rough. he was cute, but she did not needed cute, she needed release, holding on to his shoulders, asking him with her intensity to give her more, to go faster, to move with her with more speed.
And then she moved herself, herself over him, and he felt the ground under him as she straddled him. her hands on him. Her hair was falling over his face, and he brushed it away as his mouth found hers again. He eagerly kissed her this time, as he moved back completely inside of her. Charlie pushed him away, smiled that wide smile of hers at him and started to move. In slow waves she started to ride him, sweat dripping slowly from whatever was happening here, as her breathing accelerated with his.
She watched Connor under him, his deep eyes, only on her, as she tried, needed that release.
She was so warm and he was losing himself in her, with every time he moved inside of her.
She came first when he hit that right spot inside of her. It made her come hard, with one deep moan which shot right through him. God, this girl was hot. He felt how he was about to come too, but he would not risk getting her and them both into trouble this night, so at the last moment, he broke free of her, coming with force too.
Charlie moved away from him, a grin on her face, her hair splayed out around her head, on the blanket they were using for some comfort. She landed just next to him, her side an arm covering his arm as he tried to catch his breath. Shit, this was good. Her weight against his body.
'Do did not like it?' she asked, the light of the face hitting her face. Brining out her soft lips. Charlie saw something fall over his face, as they were slowly able to breathe again.
'Oh I liked it.' He really did, 'but you know who my dad is, are you not afraid things will get weird now?'
'I am not going to apologize, Connor. Life is short, even shorter for us.' He watched the temperature drop in her voice, the tone getting colder. Sharper.
She felt how something dropped inside of her. It was time that somebody told him the truth. She had no idea what Miles or Monroe had told him, but she knew where they were standing, and it was not good.
He listened to her, telling him he just joined the losing team. That it would all end so badly for them all.
'Or you could try and hope a little hope?' His was taking back by her dark mood, this new darker side of her.
'I'd rather like to be realistic.' Hope, she thought to herself, it was something from a long time ago, when she had been eager to explore the world, to see what is out there. She ahd told Jason on their way to Chicago that they could not all be monster, could not all be bad. But truth was, she knew the truth now. It was rough and dark. The word hope touched something in her, the way Connor was looking at her, touched something in her that should not be awoken. It couldn't. That was then, this was now. The real now.
He swallowed with difficulty, hearing her words. It was hard hearing something so sharp and edgy coming out of her mouth, when she laid down next to him, looking so beautiful while the colours of the fire were touching her face. Making her eyes burn.
It was the first time he watched that part of her, and it was like a dull and at the same time dark punch.
I'd rather be realistic.
They reached home, as he watched how Charlie met his deep eyes.
It would not be long, until her words cut right through him, as Charlie's eyes would find his again in pale morning light, strapped with her wrist and feet on a wagon, her eyes filled with worry and regret as her eyes found his.
Thank you very much for reading this second chapter, I really appreciate it! As you can see, this chapter will be from Connor's point of view. I wanted to explore that meeting with his new life, his old life, more of his life there and what is going on right there and then. And yes, a little more story about Vegas, of course. I will work on chapter three soon. Love from Love