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"You would have had to deal with something far worse than losing your scholarship, Rory," Connor said, cutting her off.
Frowning, she asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"
For a moment he only looked at her and just when she thought that she was finally about to get her answers after all of these years, he shook his head and moved to step past her. "Ask your brothers."
No, he was not about to do this to her on top of everything else. They were going to finish this tonight.
"I'm asking you, Connor," she said, stepping in front of him and blocking his path.
"It would be better if it came from one of your brothers," he said, trying to step past her, but she was done playing this game with him.
"It would be better if it came from you and while you're at it, you can tell me why you followed me up there in the first place," she demanded, making it clear that she wasn't moving until he finally gave her the answers that she'd been waiting years for.
"Are you sure that you want to hear this?" he asked, resting his hip against the sink counter as he waited.
"Yes," she 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," he admitted with a small rueful smile.
"What did you come to talk to me about?" she found herself asking as she leaned back against the door.
"I sat back, not sure what to do," he 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 approaching 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 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 ass**le dragged you, stumbling and giggling out the backdoor, I followed."
"I don't really remember any of this," she admitted, frowning as she struggled to remember something, anything about that part of the night, but it was useless.
"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 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," she said, needing to hear how he ruined her life so that she could build up a defense around her heart and hate him so the pain would end.
Connor looked away, his jaw clenched tightly as he said, "By the time I got out to the alleyway, the ass**le was trying to shove you down behind the dumpster."
"H-he didn't," she 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 hoped that Connor had gotten there in time. Please let him have gotten there in time, she prayed as dread coiled around in her stomach.
"He didn't have a chance to hurt you, Rory. I promise you that he didn't hurt you," he said softly, but wouldn't look at her.
"What aren't you telling me?" she demanded, afraid that he was lying to protect her from the truth.
"There's nothing else to tell, Rory. You know the rest," he 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," she said, planting her good hand against his chest, stopping him from ending this conversation before she got the rest of her answers.
"He pulled a knife. We ended up in jail. Case closed, end of story, let it go," he 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? Huh?" she demanded, walking after him and cutting him off before he could make it to that door and walk away from her, taking the answers that she desperately wanted to know with him.
"How did my life get wrecked, Connor? Tell me," she demanded. When he clenched his jaw and didn't answer, she screamed it. "Tell me!"
"You wouldn't listen to me!" he 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 f**king 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!" he snapped, glaring down at her. "When that ass**le 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 and 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?" she asked, reaching out and grabbing onto him as a wave of dizziness tore through her head with the possible 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 more gentle as his grip on her arms turned supportive.
"But in the police report he said that you attacked him," she mumbled, desperately trying to wrap her mind around everything he'd told her and figure out how the hell they'd gotten off when it was the other guy who 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.
