Killmore

by Martha Sweeney

  Everyone seems friendly as the men continue to banter about business, but I can see the questions and judgements in their gazes as to why I have been invited — especially since this is a good ol' boys’ club and I’m neither a boy or have the pedigree like them to be a member. Many of the men can’t help but stare at my tattoo. The women look too, but their gazes are that more of intrigue and interest in contrast to the men who seem appalled by it. The women seem delighted when I glance at them from time to time, happy for even the slightest bit of attention. George and Quintin pull Aiden into the conversations on occasion. I’m not sure if it’s to test Aiden to see if he’s really who he says he is, being polite, or some other reason. With the way that the night has already started, you would think that George is trying to determine if Aiden would be a good fit as a member; that, or George and Quintin are playing a game, and Aiden and I are their pawns.

  “So, George,” I cut in, after he and the doctor have been talking about some boring stuff about the drug industry and how they’ve discovered a new pill for God only knows what since I haven’t been paying attention.

  “Yes, Laurie,” George returns after a few beats.

  Looks like I’ve shaken the guy.

  “Why have you invited me…us?” I ask bluntly.

  “Pardon?” he replies.

  “You heard me,” I say. “Why have you invited me…us? I know that you’ve, or your organization, have sent an invitations to me the past several years, and I just can’t figure out why.”

  “What do you mean?” he questions speculatively.

  “Seriously?” I giggle.

  “Please, enlighten me,” he coaxes.

  “Are you sure you want me to do this right here in front of your members?” I check.

  “By all means, Laurie,” he insists. “You are our guest.”

  “I’m not a man, for starters,” I sat. “Nor am I of pedigree. With the way that you’re putting on your little show…or, hosting, if you’d like to call it that…you’ve practically ignored me since our introductions.” I pause, wanting my words to sink in. “I know that you’re not here trying to woo Aiden into being a member, so why are you bothering with us? With me?”

  “We like to get to know some of our influential community members,” George states calmly.

  “Really?” I muse. “Then, why haven’t you asked me a single question let alone invite me into the conversation? One would surmise that this is simply a show…a rouse…a game you like to play.”

  “I beg your pardon?” George scoffs with a cough.

  “No need to,” I proclaim.

  Quintin chuckles under his breath. By his reaction, I’ve clearly pushed a button and have called George out on his intentions.

  “You were betting on me being naive, George,” I state.

  “I see why you like her, Quintin,” George laughs. “She is a blunt one.”

  “I’d rather not waste any more of your time,” I offer. “Aiden and I will see ourselves out.”

  “No need,” Quintin interjects. “You’ve caught us. I put everyone up to it.”

  “Up to what?” Aiden checks.

  “I told them about how Laurie is, and they didn’t believe me,” Quintin states. “So, this was a little game. I was curious to see how long you would go before being yourself.”

  “Satisfied?” I ask, completely unamused.

  “Come on, Laurie,” Quintin soothes. “You have to admit. You’ve been dying to say something for a while now.”

  I glance around the room and find many of the faces smirking, having enjoyed the game. Some of the women expose something in their eyes, revealing that there’s more to the situation. To give Paul and Aiden more time at the party, since Paul has been listening in or talking in our ears half the time, I tip my head forward lightly as a gesture of good faith.

  “Wonderful,” George replies, clapping his hands together once. “Albert? Is everything ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” an older gentleman confirms from the entryway. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you will follow me, dinner is ready.”

  “Thanks, Pix,” Aiden whispers in my ear as he tugs me closer by the hip. His lips press to my temple and linger for a few seconds.

  I smile when our eyes meet.

  “Just a little longer,” he reminds.

  “I know,” I sigh.

  “Come,” Emily announces, taking my hand and gently pulling me to follow. Her other arm is wrapped around George’s as he escorts her into the adjacent room.

  Aiden and I are right behind our hosts with Quintin to Aiden’s right while everyone else follows behind us. The staff escorts us to our assigned seats around a very large dining table that can easily hold over fifty people. George and Emily take one end of the table at its head while Aiden and I are instructed to sit to their right. Quintin stands across from me and everyone else gets situated behind a chair. Once everyone is standing in place, the staff members pull out our chairs, offering to help us be seated.

  “You had us going there for a while, Laurie,” George states as our drinks are poured. “We weren’t sure if Quintin was telling the truth or not. Plus, I’m not sure how much longer we could have faked the whole charade.”

  “I’m sure you would have found a way,” I joke with truth behind my words.

  George smiles and nods, but I can tell by the look in his eye that there are many games being played right now. “Ladies…gentlemen….thank you for joining us tonight to welcome our guests into our club. Please, eat, drink, and enjoy the evening.” George takes the already filled champagne flute in front of him and holds it up.

  Everyone around the table follows George’s prompt. After he nods and takes the first sip, everyone else mirrors him. As soon as the last glass is lowered to the table, staff members step forward, each with a single dish in hand with a dome cover. Each server stands by, waiting to reveal our dish. Once the lids for our hosts’ plates have been uncovered, the staff follow with the rest of the servings.

  “So, Laurie,” Emily says after her second small bite. “How did you and Aiden meet?”

  With a hesitant smile, I share the our fake story, giving just enough information.

  “It’s so wonderful to see that love has found a way,” she boasts cheerfully.

  I smile and nod.

  “So, when did you get the tattoo? Was it not long after you and Aiden broke up?”

  “Yes and no,” I reply. “About six months after he went back to serve, I was still having a tough time. I did lose the love of my life, afterall.” I widen my grin, hoping they’re buying my story. “One night, when I was out drinking with some friends, there was a little bit of a bar brawl. I jumped in to defend a friend, from what I remember, and ended up getting pushed into someone who had a broken beer bottle in their hand. It never healed right, so I got the tattoo to hide it.”

  “Where? I don’t see the scar,” she replies.

  “Here,” Aiden offers, touching the small jagged spot. His fingers linger a little longer, tracing one of the lines of the design before he kisses my cheek.

  “I don’t see it,” Emily announces.

  “That means the tattoo is doing it’s job,” I return with a smile.

  “That it is,” she confirms. “But, if the scar is just right there, why have such a large tattoo.”

  “They say once you get inked, you want more…and that’s what happened.”

  “Do you have any more tattoos…you know, ones that are hidden?” Emily asks eagerly.

  I lift a brow but don’t confirm or deny it.

  “Aiden?” she presses inquisitively.

  Aiden’s smirk grows as he hitches his left brow, but that is his only answer.

  I don’t have any other tattoos than the massive one on my arm, but I’d consider it.

  Emily’s smile grows as if she got the answer she was searching for.

  The rest of our meal is pleasant but slow. The men do include the women more in conversations, but there’s still a ling
ering feeling I have about the group. I know they’re testing us, inspecting us for something, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. What is their game?

  When dessert is finished, everyone retires back into the parlor room for cocktails. The topic of conversation is the current placement of American troops that have been moved back into Iran and Iraq and how some have been even said to be shifting into Egypt.

  “What’s wrong, Laurie?” Quintin inquires.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  “Come now, my love,” he coaxes.

  What is this my love bullshit? Chills run down my spine at the memory of Antonio calling me that.

  “Are we boring you?” Quintin speculates.

  “Yes,” I offer bluntly.

  Quintin and the rest of the men laugh.

  “What would you ladies like to discuss, hmm?” George muses with a hint of insult.

  “I’m not keen on discussing a topic that is being used to cover up for what’s really going on,” I state.

  “And, what’s that?” one of the gentleman with a political background inquires.

  “Fake wars,” I reply.

  “How are they fake?” Emily asks. “Do you not see the video footage they show on the news.”

  “Oh, I do…when I want to see it,” I answer. “But, it’s all just a game to some really rich pompous asses.”

  “Pray tell,” coaxes George.

  “The media posts what they’re told to post regarding the war,” I state.

  “What do you mean?” asks Emily.

  “They’re told what to post as a means to control things and distract the masses from what’s really going on. It’s not about wanting to help any of those countries reach peace or sovereignty. It’s about politics…who controls who and what…playing both sides to make money off of the arms and other resources that are going in and out of those countries. It’s about the flow of where the money and resources go based off of where certain people or an organization wants them to flow.”

  No one comments.

  “I’m sure that many of you know what I’m talking about, but won’t dare acknowledge it…not to me, anyway.”

  Silence remains in the room for several almost unbearable moments —unbearable for them, not me.

  “Aiden,” I say, turning to face him. “We should be getting back…remember, we’ve got to help Esther and Gerald with a few things tomorrow.”

  Aiden pretends to check the time on his watch. “That’s right, sweetie. We do need to get going.”

  “Please, excuse us,” I say, looking to George and Emily as I stand, placing my half empty drink on the nearest table.

  “We must do this again,” Emily announces as she and George escort Aiden and I to the doorway.

  “Yes,” I agree even though I’m completely lying.

  Forty Eight - Aiden

  I wake with a splitting headache, feeling dehydrated, sore and cold. All of my blood is in my dick, making the air feel colder than it really is in the house. As I relieve myself in the bathroom, my mind plays over every detail from last night. Laurie did a great job provoking Quintin and our hosts. We had speculated as we sat in the back seats of the limo at all the different motivations for them inviting her, and Quintin pushing for her to attend. Even though the divider window was up, there was still a good chance that we were being watched or taped, so we switched on a device we had hidden in the dogs’ collars to be safe and Laurie and I sat practically on top of each other as we whispered into each other’s ear.

  As much as I’m supposed to recount what was seen and heard from the moment we were picked up, all the way to when we were dropped off, my brain kept focusing on Laurie’s naked body. Two seconds after the door to the house was closed behind us, I had her pressed against the wall and was frantically unzipping her dress. Once her dress was on the floor, we didn’t bother to really remove the rest of our clothes other than me ripping off her underwear before plowing right into her. She was wet and ready.

  My love for Laurie deepened because of to her willingness to put herself through the torture of being around Quintin. It grew more, as did my cock, each time she called out my name while I fucked her. Goddamn, I’m never fighting with her again to cause us to not be physically intimate for that length of time. It was fucking painful. My balls still hurt from that much release.

  Checking the clock, I toss on my workout clothes and hop back into bed, knowing that I’ve still got a few hours to go before Laurie should be up too. Sometime later, like clockwork, Cain and Mable come to wake me up as they always do when I leave my door open all night.

  By nine in the morning, Laurie, the dogs, and I are out the door, headed to spend some time with Esther and Gerald. With the colder weather setting in fast here in town, we need to make sure the houses, inside and out, are ready for the winter weather that’s coming. Gerald tries to help Laurie and me as we check the exterior of the property. Laurie says the seasons change rather rapidly here at the lake. Just as soon as you get used to the humidity in the summer, the fall blows in quickly with the bitter winter not far behind.

  Quintin and his crew stay in town for the fall and winter, keeping everything even more low key than they had before. He invites Laurie and I over a few times for tea and coffee, but nothing really develops during our interactions with him. I’m not sure what to make of it. Is he really taking a break or is there something going on and I’m just not seeing it?

  Days drift in and out, one blurring into the next with nothing interesting happening. The town’s population drastically decreases and everyone starts spending more time indoors. Most of the restaurants in town, even the cafe, are shut down during the cold season. Only the grocery store, hardware store, post office, and a few other select businesses are open.

  Laurie and I have fallen into a good routine with both of us in the house as much as we are. We’ve been together a bit since I’ve moved in, but we’re both inside more because of the changing weather. It gets cold fast. We get out at least once or twice a week to visit the Lenards, Paul, or Trudy and the boys, unless they come to visit us. With more time in the house together, Laurie and I find many ways to occupy ourselves, many of them include us being naked.

  I have yet to sleep in her bed, let alone get to christen the thing with her, but that’s still on my bucket list. One day, I was able to coerce her in the greenhouse when the wind was blowing through a nasty winter storm. The temperature in there is always warm to begin with since she’s able to grow food all year round, and I know we had a small part to an increase in the amount of steam on the windows by the time we were done.

  Since our fight about the invitation for the country club’s fall gala, things between Laurie and I have been really good. There are times where I actually think she may have real feelings for me too. I haven’t told her how I feel. I’m afraid of freaking her out and don’t want to risk the chance of her keeping her word to kick me out.

  As the holidays approach, Laurie is happy to spend Thanksgiving with her friends, Paul, and me, but she refuses to celebrate Christmas. I can’t really blame Laurie with everything that has happened to her and the fact that she’s never going to see her real family ever again. Laurie’s shared a little more with me about her past when I ask, but I can tell she’s leaving out a lot of details. She’ll explain a little more each time I open up about myself as well. For New Years, we get together with our friends at Trudy’s house. Trudy invites the doctors and a few other towns people as well as the staff from the cafe. When Valentine’s Day rolls around, Laurie tries to fight me on it. She eventually caves, agreeing to go out to dinner with me at Charlie’s. She's a bit more distant throughout the day, so I make sure to keep things casual when it’s just the two of us, only making a bigger deal when we’re in public. She completely avoids having sex with me that day, but I know it’s not that time of the month, making me curious about her reason. The next day, she admits that Trudy had been talking to her, making statements that she thought that I was
going to propose. The fake Aiden would absolutely ask her, but I know that this isn’t the time for our fake relationship, and by her reaction, she’s not ready even for a fake one. Me, the real Aiden, is actually considering what my life will be like when Quintin leaves the town. Can I leave her? Do I even want to?

  My days with work become routine. I sit in front of the monitor, watching and listening, getting bored after a while. I’ll play with the dogs, eat, take a nap, read or hang out with Laurie. Some of the time when we hang out, it’s us watching a movie or playing a board or card game. The rest of the time, it’s us fucking.

  When the winter weather comes to a close, the cafe opens back up, but to shorter hours than when they’re open during spring and summer. Quintin is still in town. Anytime he’s left the house, he’s only gone into town for something or to the country club. Since we can’t track him in either of those locations, because it would be too obvious, Paul follows Quintin and backs off when there’s nothing suspicious in Quintin’s behavior.

  It’s eight in the morning and my attention is caught by the sound of a door being slammed shut in the headphones.

  “What do you mean you lost it?” Quintin’s voice rings through.

  “Mr. Carroll,” one of his goons calls.

  “Not now,” Quintin snaps. “Where the hell is he?”

  Silence falls upon the house.

  “I don’t care where the hell he is,” Quintin states. “I want it taken care of.” He pauses for a few seconds. “Do what I’m paying you to do. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll get someone who can. Am I clear?”

  “Do you want some coffee, Mr. Carroll,” a man’s voice inquires.

  “No, Jimmy,” he replies with anger in his voice. “Get the car ready.”

  “Yes, Mr. Carroll,” a man returns.

  Footsteps and other noises are heard through the audio, but they’re in a room that I can’t see into. I text Paul to let him know what’s going on and he replies that he’s seeing the whole thing.