Concealed Affliction

by Harlow Stone

  * * *

  The warm cocoon I’m currently wrapped in feels like heaven. I might even enjoy it a little more, if it weren’t for the constant vibration sound coming from Ryder’s side of the bed. He stirs a little in his sleep, then settles before the vibrating starts up again.

  “Ryder.”

  “Hmmmmm?”

  His arms tighten around me and he settles once again.

  “Ryder!” I say a little more forcefully this time before he finally comes to, eyes wide and worried.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I bury my head back in the pillow, keeping my eyes closed while I speak in my own whiskey rough morning voice. Not seductive or caused from smoking, but an after effect of being strangled half to death.

  “Nothing’s wrong if you bought me a new vibrator that just happened to turn on by itself. But if you didn’t then I think your phone is ringing.”

  He let’s go of my body and reaches over to the nightstand to pick up his phone. He doesn’t answer it, but sends it to voice mail and begins typing.

  I crack my eyes open, noticing he looks stressed, or maybe like he didn’t get enough sleep. I didn’t either but I’m definitely not complaining. Ryder really could put the energizer bunny to shame. We went to bed shortly after eleven, but didn’t go to sleep until two.

  Once again, not complaining.

  “Everything alright, handsome?” I ask as I snuggle back down into the bed.

  I realize I didn’t have any nightmares last night. Most likely my workout at the gym combined with my workout with Ryder kept me comatose for the better part of the evening. I’m looking forward to going back to sleep until Ryder speaks again.

  “I need to get on the road, Elle. Chicago can’t wait any longer.”

  I understand that he needs to go, and as much as I was hoping for time by myself I’m suddenly not looking forward to it. Even though he put down his phone he still hasn’t looked at me like he normally does when we wake up in the morning. Instead, he stares blankly at the ceiling.

  “I don’t ask much about your work, what kind of a job is it anyway?”

  Ryder scrubs his hands down over his face and takes in a deep breath.

  “Mayoral election bullshit.”

  I think for a moment. Not that I know much about elections, but I thought I was certain it was over.

  “Isn’t that finished by now?”

  Ryder stares at the ceiling for a few moments before answering.

  “Not quite, I still have a few more things to wrap up. I’ll be back by Tuesday if I leave now.”

  He finally faces me and his eyes are a little sad. I’m not sure why, and I don’t plan to ask him. Not that I don’t care, but if he needs to leave there’s no sense getting wrapped up in a conversation that we don’t have time to finish. I also hate pushing for information from him when I’m so reluctant to give it up myself.

  “No worries. I have a lot to do, and I think I’ll get more done without you here,” I joke. Not that it’s an absolute lie, the man sure is distracting.

  His hand reaches out to push the hair away from my face. He runs his fingers down my cheek. It’s an intimate moment, and by that I mean it’s harder for me to withstand his kind touches than it is to sleep with him. I’ve never been good with commitment, or full exposure. The thoughts of giving both of those things to him terrify me.

  “I want you to call me if you need anything. If I’m not around or you need help with anything, I can send one of my guys over. They’re in Jacksonville.”

  His serious eyes cause me to pause, but I give him a light smirk doing my best to lighten the moment.

  “I’m a big girl handsome, but if I need anything that I can’t look after myself, I’ll give you a ring.”

  He leans over and places his lips to my forehead, breathing in my hair.

  “I mean it Elle. The more I know, the more I worry about you. Don’t make me worry anymore please. And for fuck’s sake when I call, please pick up the damn phone.”

  I lean in and place a kiss just above his collarbone.

  “I’ll answer handsome. Now, get out of my bed and make me coffee.”

  I’m greeted by a deep laugh, followed by a firm smack on my sheet covered ass.

  My sharp intake of breath does not go unnoticed by Ryder. Not that I’m surprised, he misses nothing.

  “I’d say if you don’t answer your phone, I would punish you. But the way you just reacted to me slapping your ass, I’m thinking it wouldn’t be much of a punishment.”

  I’m no stranger to different fetishes in the bedroom. I’ve tried a little bit of everything since I lost my virginity to Will Cooper in his parents’ minivan when I was sixteen. The only difference now would be that bondage could be a serious trigger for me. Spanking however, I think I can manage.

  “We’ll discuss this when I’m caffeinated, and back at the cottage.”

  Ryder leans down across the bed and places a quick kiss to my lips. Turning around to leave the bedroom, he speaks again.

  “We won’t be discussing anything when we first get back to the cottage, Elle. We’ll be fucking.”

  I don’t get a chance to respond before he’s gone, but I don’t think I needed to. Obviously when it comes to priorities we’re both on the same page.

  * * *

  I stand at the door watching Ryder load the last few bags of my stuff in the back of his truck. I feel like something is missing between us, he hasn’t quite been himself. Sure, he’s cracked a few jokes and acted like everything is normal. But I can see it in his eyes; something's been missing in them since he woke up this morning. Every time his phone rings he either leaves the room or scowls at it while he texts whoever is on the other end.

  I’ve never been one to over analyze things in a relationship, and I hope I’m not doing that now. I’ve always been a ‘go with the flow’ type of gal, and if things don’t seem to be working out, I move on. Rarely can I say I’ve ever had regrets in this department, but I can also say I have never really let my emotions get too involved in it either.

  Ryder has melted a little bit of that ice around my cold heart, and where normally I would brush it off, at this moment I want to ask him what’s wrong. I want to know what changed since we went to bed last night.

  He begins making his way back to the front door for his own bag. When he gets close enough, he bends down to pick it up and moves so he’s standing just inches in front of me. He studies my face for what feels like hours before he finally speaks.

  “Tuesday, Elle. If I’m going to be any longer, I’ll call you.”

  Distant.

  That’s what he is right now. Perhaps he’s having second thoughts about that band aid we’re going to rip off when he gets back.

  “Tuesday,” I confirm.

  He leans down and presses his lips to mine, and wrapping his hand around the back of my neck to hold me there, he speaks against them.

  “Let me know when you make it back to the cottage.”

  I nod my head.

  “I plan on leaving in a day or two.”

  He studies my face in the oddest way before he too nods his head.

  “Text me when you leave, and when you get there please, babe. I’m going to be busy, and won’t always be able to take your call. But at least text me so I know you made it there alright.”

  I give him one last kiss before bidding him farewell. This moment is awkward and I’m not sure how to handle it.

  “Drive safe, handsome.”

  He nods his head and backs out of the house. I stand and watch like the fool I am until he’s in his truck. Not liking goodbyes, or watching people leave, I shut the door and head back to my room. It’s only seven and after last night’s activities and this morning’s odd behavior, I need to rest my body, and hopefully my mind.

  Chapter Four

  I’m cleaning out my fridge when there’s at knock on the door. I managed to get a few more hours of sleep this morning, and it’s early afternoon now.<
br />
  I make my way cautiously to the door and peek out the side window finding Greta standing on my front step, along with Mrs. Butler and Mr. Clemens. It’s not Sunday, but old Mr. Clemens has what looks to be one of his wife's famous over-cooked dinners in his hands.

  “Is everything alright?”

  Always my first concern with these old people. You never know who’s going to bust a hip or have a stroke. Their clocks are ticking, that’s for sure.

  “Oh Miss Elle, we just wanted to say our goodbye’s before you leave.”

  This comes from Greta, the ol’ bitty pack leader. As per usual, she’s dressed in pressed slacks with nude stockings and open-toed shoes. Mrs. Butler’s outfit is the same, only she’s wearing full out sandals with the nude stockings.

  “How did you know I was leaving?”

  Mr. Clemens pipes up at this.

  “That young man told me when I was out in the yard yesterday. Nice boy, and he’s a Marine. We had a good talk about my time in the service.”

  This is news to me about Mr. Clemens past, but I don’t exactly sit and have long conversations with these people. Quick hellos, and helping out the odd bit when I can. Greta and Mrs. Butler’s voices cut through my thoughts as soon as I hear the word marriage.

  “Now Miss Elle, you shouldn’t move in with that boy until you get married.”

  Greta cuts Mrs. Butler off.

  “He has those tattoos, I told you most of them get those in the prisons. I worry about you Miss Elle.”

  “Greta, not every boy gets tattoos in the prisons. I told you my grandson has one, and he was never in the prisons.”

  Greta shakes her head at the words that just left Mrs. Butler’s mouth.

  “Well that grandson of yours is thirty-five and still single. Now my Randy, he’s a good boy, no tattoos-”

  “Alright! Greta, Mrs. Butler—both of your grandsons seem like nice men. I’m not moving in with the man that was here, however I am moving back home. I plan on leaving tomorrow.”

  Mr. Clemens gestures to the food in his hands.

  “I thought I would bring over Mary’s pork chops for Norma, a last supper. Sure going to miss sharing these with her,” he says.

  Henrietta Butler feels the need to put her two cents in, snickering toward Greta.

  “That’s because Mary couldn’t cook a microwavable dinner.”

  Greta snickers in return.

  “Thank you Mr. Clemens, I’ll let her out and you can feed her yourself if you’d like. If there isn’t anything else you guys need, I should finish packing.”

  Greta reaches out and grabs my hand lightly, giving it a small little shake before backing away.

  “We’re going to miss you around here Miss Elle. You be safe dear.”

  If she only knew that this life of mine revolved around safety. I shake my head and give the most sincere smile I can manage to the kind old people.

  “I will Greta. And thank you all for stopping by. Take care of yourselves.”

  They each give me a shaky hug before making their way down the driveway. As they walk away, Brock comes jogging up to the house. Greta eyeballs his tattoos in distaste, clearly assuming he’s a criminal. Kind Brock does his best to wave and smile at them, but sadly very little is returned.

  “I don’t think your neighbors like me, babe,” is the first thing he says when he reaches my front step.

  “Nah, they just associate tattoos with former prison inmates. Wear some more clothes next time, and maybe a pair of loafers.”

  Brock’s deep laugh graces my ears.

  “That’s not gonna happen.”

  “Ya, I didn’t think so. What’s up? I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

  “I wanted to see if you were still here, and give something to you.”

  I’m hoping it’s some of Sam's sugary sweets from the bakeshop, but he pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket.

  “Two things actually. One is, Vinny from the gym just split with his woman so he needs a place to stay. You mentioned the lease on this place not being up, you find anyone to take it over yet?”

  “No. I stopped by the leasing office yesterday and they said I could pay them to look after it until they found someone to take over the lease. No calls yet on them finding someone.”

  “Okay, well if you want you can tell them Vinny will take it over.”

  I sigh in relief, thankful that one obstacle can be taken care of.

  “I don’t care who takes it over Brock, I don’t like the idea of paying them extra to look after this place.”

  “It’s settled then. If you want to give them a shout when I leave, I’ll send Vinny over there to fill out the paperwork.”

  “Sounds good. Now what’s number two?”

  Brock reaches out and hands me the piece of paper.

  “My buddy Denny finally called. You know, the one that went to work for Callaghan? He says he’s been working mostly out of Virginia, but moved down to Jacksonville last weekend. I told him I was going to give you his number, that way if you need anything and I can’t help out, he’ll be around.”

  “I appreciate that Brock, but I’ll be fine.”

  He runs his hand over his short blonde hair.

  “I’m sure you will Elle, but piece of mind babe. He also offered to continue my training with you, if you’re up to it.”

  That is one of the things I was going to miss most about not being here anymore, and to be honest I look forward to keeping up with it at home. So long as I can connect with this ‘Denny’ person, and not leave him bleeding on the floor like I did when I first met Brock.

  “Thank you Brock. I’ll be honest though, if I don’t feel comfortable with him, I won’t be able to train with him.”

  Brock looks at me with soft eyes. He understands. I knew he would.

  “I get that babe. But I’m being honest when I say Denny is one of the most solid guys I know. He may come off as a miserable bastard, mostly because he is, but he would do anything to protect the people around him. He’s a good guy, Elle. Ryder gave the boys a week off, so my guess is he’s drowning in whiskey and women right about now, but I told him you’d get in touch with him next week if you were interested.”

  I didn’t catch much beyond ‘Ryder gave the boys a week off’. I’m too busy wondering why he’d be off on a job by himself, while his men are obviously living up their vacation time.

  “He gave them the week off?”

  Brock looks at me skeptically before responding.

  “Yes. Ryder told Denny and the boys there was no work this week and to take some time off before they start some training shit near the base in Jacksonville. You alright babe?”

  No, I’m not alright. But I’m not about to tell him that. I could very well be jumping to conclusions, but one would think he would want to be here, ripping that band aid off with me and sending another one of his cronies to do the job.

  “Ya, all good. I just have a lot of shit on my mind, and more packing to do.”

  I know he can tell I’m not being completely honest with him and I hope he doesn’t push me to answer. We don’t talk about our personal lives so I see no reason to start now.

  “Told you not to bullshit me, Elle. But if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push.”

  “Thanks.”

  He braces both hands on the doorway and leans in.

  “But if you need help to pack, I’m here. Unless Ryder’s helping you, not sure I need to spend more time with him.”

  I know they have a mutual dislike for each other. They both share a small amount of respect for what the other man does for a living, but that’s where it ends.

  “Ryder took most of my shit when he left this morning.”

  This perks Brocks ears up and he’s quick to come back at me.

  “Why was he in such a hurry if the boys have the week off?”

  I don’t feel like lying right now, even though I’m damn good at it. If Ryder is up to something, I need to know about i
t. I could ask him, and I will when he gets back. But to say I’m intrigued as to why he ran off for work when the rest of the crew has time off would be an understatement.

  “Job in Chicago.”

  Brock stares at me for what feels like an hour before he finally speaks again.