Perfect (Love in Yorkshire #1)

2

I drew the beam of wood higher and then with all my strength swung it to smash it over Carter’s head. He turned last minute, his eyes widening in shock as the blow came, smashing against his shoulder and the lower part of his face. It knocked him backwards and his breath whooshed from his body. I too fell back, landing on my side with a painful jolt and I scrambled away as Carter swayed back and forth, trying to recover.

As I sat there on my backside, with my hands on either side of my body, bracing me up, Carter climbed slowly to his feet before turning to glare at me. He was noticing me now. His eyes were still filled with a murderous rage and my heart thumped so wildly, I thought it was going to burst out of my chest.

Carter staggered towards me like the drunks you saw in the city at night.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he dribbled out, spit running down his chin.

I shook my head, I needed to be strong.

“I’ve phoned the police! They’ll be here any minute! Leave us alone !” I yelled in a semi-hysterical voice, sure that my turn was coming. I felt terror like I’d never experienced.

Cater would kill me easily and there was nothing I could do about it. I rolled to the side and then onto all fours, knowing that I’d have a better chance on my feet and praying that I could get there fast enough. I should have done as Dad had ordered and ran to the house, but I hadn’t been able to leave Connor .

Carter advanced on me as I came to my feet, backing away, my palms raised to ward him off.

I closed my eyes as my back hit the side of the barn and the realisation that there was nowhere left to go, pooled painfully into my gut. This was it. My knees sagged. The range of emotions churning through me at that point was indescribable.

Carter grabbed me by the throat and started to squeeze. I felt my eyes bulge at the pressure.

Air was trapped in my lungs and he continued to tighten his grip around my neck. I lifted my hands and circled his wrists to try and drag his hand away and scratched his skin but it made no difference. I couldn’t get my breath; the life was being choked out of me and my head started swimming.

I opened my mouth to plead with him but no sound came out and then suddenly, I felt Carter release me with a grunt. I fell to my knees, struggling for coherent thought as I dragged air into my deprived lungs.

A skirmish was going on beside me and I rocked to my knees, blinking back tears to see that Connor had knocked Carter off me. He had saved me. He was now pushing all his weight onto his father’s back and the man’s spine buckled. Carter’s face was pushed into the dirt and he thrashed beneath his son’s body attempting to rise.

“Get into the house, Harlow. Now!” Connor bit out, his shirt was ripped and I could see angry-looking welts on his bared torso, making me wince. I was breathing heavily, greedily refilling my body with oxygen.

The light from the house lit up Connor’s face. One eye was swollen, it was purple and angry looking, blood was crusted around his nose and his lip was split. I nodded frantically and pushed myself to my feet, running for the house as the sound of a car powered up the driveway. This time I was happy about the interruption. I spun in the direction of the lights, hope thumping through me.

Dad pulled the Land Rover into the yard, spraying pebbles everywhere and he wasn’t alone. Rachel, Nigel and Clive were with him. The men jumped from the vehicle and descended, dragging Connor away by the arms as he struggled to free himself. Desperate to carry on attacking the older man. Obviously wanting to finish the job .

His father remained on the ground but was still moving, attempting to get to his knees.

After Connor was calmer, Nigel released him and he doubled over, struggling with his breathing. Clive and Nigel swung towards Carter.

“You’re trespassing mate,” Nigel said aggressively as he grabbed him by the hair drawing Carter’s head back. “Your lad proper fucked you up I’d say.”

Carter’s reply bubbled from his throat and was inaudible.

He was broken.

It was over, the nightmare was actually over and I sank to my knees again, tears streaming down my face as relief forced a bubble of hysterical laughter from my lips.

Rachel ran from the vehicle towards her son, her face sheet white in the dark as she threw her arms around him. I felt a twinge of sadness that I couldn’t do the same and could only watch as she sobbed heavily.

I heard him whisper my name and my heart leaped in my chest. I stood, staggering towards them.

“Rachel turned to look at me, her eyes running over my swaying limbs. “She’s here, she’s fine.” She reassured him through sobs.

“Are you OK Harlow, did he hurt you,” Dad began appearing at my side, running his hands over my body, searching for any possible sign of injury.

I cleared my gravelly throat. “No, I’m fine, honestly,” my voice was husky from the damage Carter had probably caused to my vocal cords, but I didn’t care, all could think about was Connor.

Dad’s look of relief was palpable and he dragged me into his arms. I was determined not to lose it at that point but it was difficult. Shock forced my body to shake violently.

After holding me for a while until I was calmer, Dad handed me my iPhone which I’d totally forgotten about. He then told me to go into the house whilst the guys sorted Carter. The police were on their way.

I watched as my father and the two farm hands started to drag the hideous excuse for a man into the barn. Now I knew what real hatred felt like. Such a cruel horrible person and I wanted to run to him and kick him like he had his son. I turned away refocusing my attention on Connor .

Rachel was now checking his body, still crying and Connor’s eyes met mine over her shoulder. He looked beaten, and not just physically, like that fire inside him had burned out and my heart squeezed. How I wanted to put my arms around him and hold him close, support him in some way but I couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do,” I croaked. My eyes were puffy and I felt emotionally exhausted.

“Please go and put the kettle on love, I think we all need something sweet,” Dad said calmly.

The man I had fallen for was on the ground beaten and raw and I had been relegated to tea maker; I had never felt so useless in my entire life.

I walked slowly into the house, feeling thoroughly confused and dazed by what I’d just experienced.

Eventually, the police arrived and took Carter away. I was watching from the window of Dad’s study. Rachel and Connor were safely in the house and Dad had helped Connor upstairs to bed until the Doctor arrived. Both Rachel and my dad had suggested an ambulance, but Connor wouldn’t have it. I lurked around in the background, doing anything I was asked, and tried to be as helpful as possible.

Once the chaos had calmed, I sat in my room, listening to whispered voices before clearly hearing Rachel leave Connor’s room and I decided it was my moment. He’d be sleeping no doubt, but I had to see him. The Doctor had left around an hour ago and had reported that luckily nothing seemed broken, but that Connor would need to go for a scan to check for possible cracked ribs.

It was almost one in the morning but I didn’t care. I tiptoed lightly down the corridor, tugging at the lapels of my robe to secure it further against my body. I had removed my dirty clothes but hadn’t showered or washed. The landing was freezing.

Connor’s door was slightly ajar and I peered inside. He was propped up in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist and he appeared to be sleeping. Relief jetted into me as he didn’t look like the bloody pulp I’d envisioned. Rachel had obviously cleaned up his face, one eye was swollen and badly bruised and there was the split lip but that was about it. As far as external injuries were concerned anyway. If his ribs were cracked, the pain would surely be horrendous. My heart sped up .

I pushed the door closed gently and quietly entered the room, thinking I would stay for a few minutes and then speak to him in the morning, I didn’t want to wake him.

In his weakened condition, he actually looked quite human, vulnerable almost. But appearances were deceptive weren’t’ they?

Connor’s breathing was shallow and I watched his T shirted chest slowly rise and fall as I approached the bed, stumbling slightly as I tripped over a gym bag on the floor. Seeing him like this was almost enough to break me.

“You’d make a lousy thief,” Connor’s voice startled me, making my heart race.

“Shit,” I cried, clutching at my chest, “I thought you were sleeping.”

He attempted to smirk and opened his eyes; one eye fully, the more battered eye slightly.

“I was before you came in like an elephant,” he pointed out nonchalantly. It appeared his injuries had not curtailed his sense of humour.

“Great. Now I’m an elephant. Healthy enough to throw the insults around I see,” I bounced back, smiling gently as I threw him an arched eyebrow.

The smirk changed to a grin, “Of course, insulting you is way too entertaining.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, at least I’m a source of fun for you.”

Connor paused before replying, the humorous twist to his lips fading before he cast me a serious look. “You’re much more than that,” he drawled slowly, his eyes searching my face. My pulse soared with hope.

“What—?”

He broke contact fleetingly as he swiftly changed the subject. “Did you enjoy the pub?” He put in casually.

“Connor —. ” I started, not wanting to head into an uncomfortable conversation or change the bloody subject to something so unimportant. My time on the farm had been gradually teaching me what was and what wasn’t significant in life.

“Did you?” he questioned again, a little more firmly. Was he mad at me for going? I batted the thought aside. Now was probably not the time for intense discussions so I didn’t push it.

I brushed off his question with a quick-fire reply. He may not be ready to speak about whatever this thing was between us, but there was no way he was warding off a conversation about what I’d witnessed tonight.

“Why didn’t you call someone?”

Connor snorted and shuffled further up in the bed. I moved forwards to help but he held up his hand to ward me off. Stubborn as always, he may look battered and bruised but he hadn’t lost his resilience.

“It was my problem,” he stated. “And there wasn’t time, he was just there . I was trying to get him to leave before my mom got back.”

I lowered myself to perch on the side of his bed. I didn’t ask for permission, it felt like the natural thing to do.

He shuffled further against the headboard but the movement must have been too much as he flinched and rubbed his ribs.

“Does it hurt?”

“Like a motherfucker,” he rasped.

I cringed but not at the profanity, I could almost feel his pain. Connor misunderstood me as usual and apologised for swearing.

I shook my head, my lips twisting. “I think I’ll allow the bad language under the circumstances. Can I do anything to help?”

He sighed, probably a sign that he was tired and I felt a smidge of guilt for keeping him awake. Maybe I should have left it until morning but I was so desperate to see him.

He leaned over and took a drink from the glass of water on his bedside table.

“No, just talk to me. I find the sound of your voice calming. Well, most days,” he said closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillows.

I grinned. “You’re still a dick I see.”

His own mouth curled into a smile and his eyes cut to mine. “You love it.”

There were a few moments of silence between us as Connor rested his eyes again. I was toying with the thought of leaving, but my mouth switched onto autopilot.

“So that was your father?” I said, partly to myself.

He cleared his throat.

“That was dear old dad,” Connor replied his distaste evident.

“I’m sorry. You never talk about him.”

“You can see why?”

I blew out a breath. “Yes. I’m sorry. Really sorry. ”

He remained silent for a while before replying partly to himself. “So am I.”

“Why did he come here?”

Connor dashed a hand across his jaw.

“He was looking for my mother,” he paused momentarily and I saw a flash of annoyance cross his face at what was obviously an unsavoury thought. “Thank fuck she was out with Mike. Fuck knows how he found us again. He probably followed her from Gran’s.”

As I digested his words, a strange thought occurred to me, my hand flying to my mouth as realisation kicked in.

Connor’s eyes followed the movement. “What’s wrong?”

Panic chewed into me as I recalled the strange telephone call with ‘the bank’.

Tom had said in the car that Carter had made a fake call to their house in the past to find out their address. The memory of pulling the letter towards me and giving the address out over the phone jumped to the forefront of my mind.

I suddenly felt sick.

Connor sat forward with another grunt, obviously concerned by my now stricken face.

“Harlow?What is it?”

There was no way around it, I had to tell him. He would hate me. I could feel it.

I had led his father to the farm!

Regret bounced off me in waves and I couldn’t control my reaction.

I had to come clean, the knowledge was like a huge burden sitting on my shoulders. I took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Connor. It was me! It must have been me. I gave him the address of the farm,” I reeled, my hand now clutching at my tender throat in desperation.

I shot to my feet. “I didn’t know it was him of course, but I remember his voice from the call.”

Connor’s expression shifted and his eyes bore into mine, the confusion on his face twisting his features. “What are you talking about?”

“I took a call on the phone from a guy saying he was from the bank. It must have been him — he asked for me to confirm the address and, I gave it to him,” the words literally spewed from my mouth in one big whoosh .

Blatantly frustrated, Connor dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Are you sure?”

Moisture appeared at the corner of my eyes, I felt like such a failure. I had let them down, both Connor and his mother. Now they would hate me.

I assessed the damage to his face as he went silent, obviously trying to process the full extent of what I had confessed.

Suddenly he straightened and then drooped back against the pillows, the discomfort he felt by sitting up was written across his face.

“Motherfucker,” Connor released with a sigh and my heart dipped. He was right, I was. I let the numbness wash over me. I knew he meant Carter but I decided I should take that particular label. It still probably wasn’t a strong enough thing to call me anyway.

We sat there in silence and I toyed with the idea of leaving to tell Rachel but his words stopped me.

Connor was watching me again.

“It’s not your fault Harlow, you weren’t to know.”

I shook my head, totally in disagreement. I had been so stupid. “No, you’re right. Call me any name you want and I’ll accept that. I let you down.”

Connor’s eyes shot to mine. “Not you, never you. He’s the motherfucker Harlow. The bastard has done that before. You should have been warned instead of all the cloak-and-dagger shit. Then you would have been more prepared.”

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’s exactly what 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, I hadn’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.

“The usual shit. He doesn’t like to be challenged and hates the fact that he can’t do whatever the hell he wants to me now. He’d come for Rachel. I wasn’t going to let him get to her.”

There was a thread of steel in his tone.

“Did she leave him because he was abusive to you both?”

He exhaled sharply and rubbed the muscles in his neck. “Yes, but not like that, not with her. He saved the physical stuff for me. With Mom, he just ground her down emotionally and made her feel like a piece of shit. I’m sure you know the story.”

“What do you mean?” I questioned, not wanting to worry him about people gossiping.

“I know people talk about it. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

I paused, deciding against denying it .

“Yes, you’re right. I do know some stuff but I’d rather hear it from you.”

If he was annoyed by my revelation, he didn’t show it.

“There isn’t much to say really. My dad’s a worthless piece of shit and my mother left him.”

I leaned forward on the bed and placed a hand on his duvet-covered thigh, it was strong and warm beneath my fingers. His eyes flickered down to briefly witness the motion before he raised his face again. He was so beautiful, even with the battered face. He made me burn with just one look.

“It must have been horrendous. I can’t even imagine it. My parents could really go at it when they used to fight but it wasn’t ever abusive, at least I don’t think so, just two people falling out about fairly mundane things,” I explained.

Connor nodded his understanding before sharing his version of events.

“Carter knocked up Rachel with me when she was only sixteen and her family threatened to throw her out if they didn’t marry. I doubt they had anything in common to start with, apart from a one-time fuck that backfired.”

I could see the anger in his eyes give way to hurt. Connor was the product of that backfire, no wonder he didn’t feel wanted.

I wasn’t having it and needed to reassure him. “Your mother must have wanted the pregnancy though. There are ways of dealing with unwanted ones. She must have wanted you, even if your father didn’t surely?”

“Who knows, she has a funny fucking way of showing it at times.”

He paused, almost reflecting on his sentence before brushing a hand through his tousled hair. “But then again, what do I have to compare it to?”

I was just about to speak but he cut me off, obviously done with the sharing, for now, anyway.

“Anyway, fuck that shit. I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. That’s the last thing I want from you. Pity.”

I frowned, recoiling slightly, the tone was definitely back in his voice and I reminded myself that he wasn’t a straightforward guy. He was hot one minute and then cold the next and if I was to be part of his life, I would have to learn how to deal with that. Connor had emotional wounds that had scarred him for life. Maybe I could be the one to help him live with them but I needed to take it slow .

The words he said earlier, echoed in my head. ‘You make me want to be a better person.’

‘Ditto.’ I thought, then said. “Everyone needs some understanding now and then Connor.”

I accepted defeat. The moment was lost.

He closed his eyes. “What I need right now is sleep.”

Frustration bloomed in my chest as he shut me down and I could see he was about to turn onto his side.

“Is there anything you need before I go?” I questioned, trying not to sound too sympathetic, the soft stuff didn’t seem to work on him. On the surface he was tough but underneath, he was just like any other guy with a past, terrified and alone.

Rising from the bed, I smiled down at him as he repositioned his body, his head turned to mine, his eyes now open.

“Goodnight then,” I whispered before turning away.

“Harlow?”

I twisted back towards the drugging sound of his voice. “Yes?”

“You asked me if there was anything I needed before you go?” He said, his eyes on mine.

“Yes, anything?” I nodded. My eyebrows were raised with reassurance.

My heart soared at his words and as requested, I moved towards him, leaned in and pressed my lips against his gently to seal the end of our conversation with a goodnight kiss.

He was smiling with his eyes closed as I left his room and I felt much happier than when I had entered it.