Role Play

by Alison Hendricks

  "Fine. Well you know how Marcus has been trying to get a job that will actually allow him to advance? There's a competing company in Salt Lake City that's willing to pay him almost double his current salary, plus training for promotion, and they're willing to cover our moving expenses."

  My brows lifted and my jaw unclenched, though confusion wound through me. "That's great, Ruth. Why the fuck would that make me angry? That's the best news I've heard in a while."

  I moved to hug her, but she was stiff as I did it. Pulling back, I looked into her eyes and saw... was that guilt? Regret? I pulled away instantly, my posture growing guarded.

  "It is great news. It's more money -- more stability. A house, access to doctors and specialists, the best private schools, maybe even college one day..."

  I knew what she was getting at instantly and my heart sank. "I can't just move out to Utah. I'd have to coordinate with the NCAA and try to find another program that would take me. The earliest that would happen is the start of summer conditioning. Ruth, I can't..."

  I stopped, because her expression was becoming more and more guilt-ridden.

  "That's not what you mean, is it. You're not wanting me to move out there with you so we can both keep taking care of David."

  "It's disruptive to do it this way, Reu. Going back and forth between two totally different environments. Marcus and I are stable and predictable, and you know how important routine is."

  "You think moving across the damn country isn't going to upset his routine?!" My voice was raised, but I didn't care. "And how am I not 'stable and predictable?' Just because I'm not married--"

  "You have guys coming in and out of here all the time!"

  "I have never brought a hookup here," I said through gritted teeth. "Don't act like my place is just a fucking parade of debauchery. Are you seriously doing this right now?"

  I swore in Hebrew, my hands going to my head, raking through my hair. I wanted to yell back that what I had with Elliot was just as real as what she and her husband had, but then I realized:

  I hadn't told her about Elliot. Not beyond his involvement with David and Horizon.

  "It'll be an adjustment. Of course it will. But don't you want what's best for him?"

  "I'm what's best for him! I've been the one providing for him, helping him, learning as much as I can to make sure I'm not fucking it up. You come around when it's fucking convenient for you, Ruth. You always have."

  Tears swam in her eyes and her face reddened with hurt and anger. I knew I'd crossed a line. What I said hadn't even been the truth, even if it felt that way sometimes.

  "I can't talk to you when you're like this," she said through tears, grabbing her purse.

  Suddenly that anger returned, along with a shot of disbelief. Was she actually going to just leave in the middle of this?

  "Are you fucking kidding me? You can't just--hey!" She went for the door and I reached out for her. As soon as she shook out of my grasp, though, I let her go.

  "I'll call you later, after you've had some time to cool down."

  I held back all the terrible things I wanted to say to her. Anger burned deep in my chest, all of it directed at my sister. I knew it wasn't productive, and so I tamped it down, grinding my teeth as she all but slammed the door behind her.

  With a pained sound of pure frustration, I picked up the map I'd been working on and tore the paper apart, over and over, until it was nothing but tiny shreds.

  22

  Elliot

  I knew something was wrong as soon as I got the text. It was almost like the time he'd been railroaded into forcing Ty back onto the roster, but there was something different about this one. It was less desperation, more sorrow.

  Reuben: Can I come over?

  Reuben: I need you.

  Also, the fact that he didn't specifically mention sex. That was his go-to when he was feeling bad, and I'd learned not to press him to talk too much until after he got it out of his system. He'd always respected my consent, I just wasn't going to say no to him nine times out of ten.

  I sent him a text back saying he could come over. I grabbed a quick shower since I smelled like high school, then I picked up a few things and put on some coffee. I considered pulling down the Bailey's, too, but left it at just coffee for now.

  When I let him in, I could see his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn't crying now, but he had been. Probably on the drive over.

  "What happened? Are you okay?"

  He stepped forward, arms outstretched, and I folded him into a tight embrace. I just held him for several minutes, rubbing his back, feeling his shoulders shake as he silently cried. I wanted so badly to ask what was wrong, but he needed this time to just get the emotion out without having to worry about words.

  When he finally pulled back, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. I stepped back from him just long enough to grab a Kleenex from the end table, handing it to him.

  "Thanks," he said, nose obviously stuffed up.

  "What's going on, Reuben?" I asked gently.

  "Can we... sit down or something?"

  I nodded and helped him over to the couch, pulling the afghan off the recliner and draping it over him. It was rarely cold enough in Florida to even have it, but he looked like he needed the comfort. As he dried his eyes and blew his nose, I padded into the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee, fixing it the way he liked with a splash of milk and a packet of Truvia.

  I brought the coffee to him and sat on the couch, leaning over to rub his back in a gesture I hoped would be more soothing than obnoxious.

  "She's taking him away from me, Elliot. She's taking David."

  My heart leapt into my throat and ceased beating for several long moments. I blinked at him, managing only to say, "What? Why? How?!"

  He began to explain, his voice rough with emotion. There were points in it where I could see his rage buried beneath the sorrow, both fighting for dominance. I couldn't imagine what I'd feel in his position.

  David wasn't mine. Even if Reuben and I became something closer one day, I couldn't claim to be as close to him as his blood family. But I loved him. Fiercely. I was protective of him during the Friday sessions and every time Reuben told me about something that happened to him at school, I wanted to march down there and give them a piece of my mind.

  The thought of losing him hurt. Deeply. And if I was feeling that way, Reuben's heart must have been completely ripped out.

  "Does she not see your situation as stable?" I asked, my brows drawn together in a tight line. "I know we're not married or anything, but I think what we have is pretty stable. And even if my job doesn't have tenure, it's secure. I--"

  I stopped, seeing the stricken look on his features.

  "What?" I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

  "I... didn't exactly tell her about us."

  My heart sank at that, plummeting to my stomach. A wave of nausea churned through me and I looked away from him.

  "It's not like I was hiding you. I promise," he said, reaching for me. "I just hadn't gotten around to it. The last time she and I really talked, we weren't... this."

  I wanted to just shrug it off. There were far more important things to worry about right now, and my bruised feelings weren't high on the list.

  It still hurt, though, whether I wanted it to or not. Part of me couldn't help wondering if he didn't think this was going to last. Or if he was ashamed of me in some way. He'd never acted that way in public. Maybe with his family it was private.

  "Hey. Babe. Don't overthink this, please." His hand moved to my cheek and he turned me to face him. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against mine in a tender kiss. "I'm sorry I didn't tell her, but I promise there's nothing else going on."

  I searched his eyes, finding only sincerity there. I felt so stupid for being upset about it. At least he was understanding.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this about me. I trust you," I said, meeting his gaze so he'd know I was being truthful, too. />
  I did trust him. I believed what he was saying. If there was no other reason, there was no other reason.

  "I doubt hearing about me would change her mind, anyway," I added.

  "It might. It definitely can't hurt. She told me she'd talk to me once I'd calmed down, but I don't see that happening any time soon," he muttered.

  I pulled him close again, letting him rest his head against my shoulder as I held him. I didn't know what to say, let alone what to do. My mind tried to turn over every crack legal theory I'd ever read on Twitter, but I knew absolutely nothing about law. All I knew was that it wasn't right, and it definitely wasn't helpful to disrupt the environment of a child who clung to that sense of normalcy just to feel as if their world made sense.

  Maybe I could talk to the school counselor and see if she had any resources. I didn't want to suggest that to Reuben, though. I didn't want to give him false hope.

  "I think she still sees me as this burnout kid who had no future after high school. She thinks I take care of David because I feel like I owe it to our sister, but that's not fucking true. I love David. I treat him like he's my own son."

  "I know you do," I said softly, stroking through his hair.

  As I thought on it, an idea popped into my mind. "It seems like he's been making a lot of social progress thanks to the Friday games. Does your sister know how much? I've never seen her there."

  "She knows what I've told her. She just thinks his interest in D&D is him fixating. I think she tunes him out after a certain point."

  A spark of anger flared in me, but I buried it quickly. This wasn't my fight. I wasn't in the ring. I needed to just help from the sidelines.

  "What if you invite her to the session you'll be DMing? That way she can see firsthand how much he's improved, how much this helps him. And she'll see just how much work you put in to share his interest with him."

  He considered that for a long moment, then looked up at me. A bit of moisture clung to his lashes and I brushed it away.

  "I guess it can't hurt. Maybe if I talk to her afterward..." He frowned, sitting back up. "We'll need to do a lot more work between now and then. It needs to be perfect. Or as close as I can get it."

  "Would it help you to get started tonight?"

  He swallowed, looking back at me. The single nod was all I needed, but he said, "Yeah."

  I gave him a reassuring smile and reached for his hand, squeezing it. "I'll go get my stuff."

  23

  Reuben

  Over the next few weeks, I put in the time and effort to get myself ready for David's birthday. When I first started, I'd just wanted to do something nice for my nephew. Now it felt like everything was riding on it. It was such a long shot -- some days I didn't know how this of all things was going to convince Ruth -- but it was all I had. I sure as shit wasn't going to open up a legal case against my own sister. Especially when I was sure they'd rule in her favor.

  So I just had to hope Dungeons & Dragons would save me, which was a wild fucking thing to think.

  Elliot was there every step of the way. He looked over what I wrote, critiqued the encounters I came up with, and even playtested for me.

  "You've got all the mechanical stuff down," he said one night, once we'd just finished up testing a combat encounter, "but your presentation could use a little work."

  "Yeah, I know the maps suck."

  "The maps are fine," he said, "but the way you're describing things is a little dry. You want your players to feel immersed in every scene. Even if you're going through the most routine combat ever, you can describe it in a way that feels like they're right there, forced to think on their feet like their character would."

  A few nights later, he showed me what he meant. I'd expected him to just put a little more performance into his DMing at Horizon. What I found when I brought David was a whole new level of dedication.

  For about a month now, David's group had been skirting around this band of renowned pirates led by Captain Felblade. They'd reneged on a deal with him, and knew they were going to have to face the consequences eventually. Apparently this Friday was the day for it, because Elliot greeted us dressed in full pirate garb. Not just the puffy shirt and tight leather pants. Not even just the hat and boots. He was wearing a captain's coat, too, and fake facial hair that had been meticulously oiled and shaped into a pointy goatee. Fake earrings, an eyepatch, and a painted-on scar over that same eye accentuated the look. He even had a curved sword in a scabbard strapped to his hip.

  "Welcome," he told us, in a deep, scratchy voice, his brows drawn close to his eyes, lip curled. "Why don't ye have a seat so we can begin the negotiations?"

  The accent was terrible. Some kind of off-brand Scottish, I guessed, but the gravely tone and the amount of confidence and gravitas he exuded was sexy as hell, and I found my thoughts turning filthy in a hurry.

  As he conducted the session, completely in character the whole time, I found myself fantasizing about being Captain Felblade's prisoner. Bound on his ship, tied to the mast. Stripped naked to be humiliated in front of his men. Only the more I saw the captain, the more I'd respond to him, until I couldn't stop myself from getting hard. Then he'd...

  Fuck. What was wrong with me? I'd fantasized before, but never like that. Always about... normal shit. The same things everyone fantasized about. Which didn't include pirates. Right? No normal person fantasized about pirates.

  The twinge of lust I'd felt at seeing Orlando Bloom in full pirate gear told me otherwise. Same with Carey Elwes before him. And Errol Flynn before him.

  Maybe I just had a thing for pirates.

  I couldn't get that thing out of my head, though. Afterward, as Elliot walked us to our car, I had David go on ahead so I could talk to him alone.

  "You were great tonight," I told him, my whole body vibrating with the need to tell him what I really thought. "I see what you mean about performance. Not sure I can pull anything like that off, but we'll see."

  "Just doing different voices and putting some theatricality into it helps a lot," he said, using his normal voice. "You'll probably look stupid, but we all look stupid doing this stuff."

  "You look pretty sexy to me," I murmured. It was the best segue I was going to get.

  I saw a flush steal across his cheeks and I continued.

  "I kept thinking about how I wouldn't have minded being captured by Captain Felblade myself. Except I wouldn't have negotiated with gold."

  He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "No?"

  "No." I resisted the urge to step closer to him. David knew we were together, but I still tried not to do anything excessive in front of him. "Ruth has David starting tomorrow. If I come over, think you can wear that again?"

  He stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes practically swallowed by wide pupils. "...Yeah, I can definitely do that."

  "Only if you want to," I said quickly. "I don't want to make you--"

  "No. No, I definitely want to." Elliot let out a nervous laugh that I silenced with a quick kiss.

  "See you tomorrow, then. Captain."

  I almost couldn't believe I was doing something so... unlike me. Or at least unlike anything I'd ever tried before.

  Saturday morning after I dropped David off with Ruth -- and avoided talking to her for any length of time, except to remind her about his birthday at Horizon -- I stopped at the costume supply store. There was only a small one open this time of year, mainly meant for theatre students to get whatever props and costumes they needed.

  I found what would pass as a pirate shirt and trousers. Since I couldn't find boots, I figured bare feet would have to work. There was a nice red sash, though, so I rented all of those things and just mumbled something about it being for work.

  I'd already brought something else with me, something I'd used before but had never used on me: a length of nylon rope meant for bondage play.

  I showed up at Elliot's place in my normal clothes, my costume still in the bag. My heart was pounding, b
ut I wasn't really... nervous. I was more excited than anything. Eager to see him in his outfit again.

  I wasn't disappointed. He answered the door with everything but the hat on, and it took all my willpower not to throw myself at him. I could tell from the look on his face he was feeling a little self-conscious, so I leaned in to kiss him.

  "Still feel okay about this?"

  "Oh yeah," he answered, his fake facial hair tickling my face. "Just have to... get into character."

  "Well, I brought some stuff to help."

  I held up the bag but didn't show him. Instead I went into his bathroom and shut the door. While I changed, I told him all about the scene that had continued to play across my fantasies all night. Then I told him to wait outside the bedroom and come in ready to play his role when he heard knocking.

  I felt a little silly, dressed the way I was. The shirt hung loose, the ties open in the front. The trousers were purposefully torn and only came to about mid-calf. I'd just decided to forego underwear and tied the sash around my waist so I looked like more of a pirate.

  Then, I went into the bedroom and considered how best to accomplish what I wanted. The bed posts went all the way to the floor, so I sat with my back against one of them, my hands behind me and around it. The rope was draped loosely over my wrists, the ends of it obvious so he'd hopefully know what to do.

  I knocked on the post, hearing his boots on the floor as he approached. Clearing my mind of all the stupid insecurities, I focused on "getting into character." Allowing myself to live in that fantasy and become the upstart sailor who'd challenged his captain's authority.

  When he stepped through the doorway, his whole presence had changed. He was a dominant force, demanding attention. The look he gave me was piercing, and it wasn't hard for me to pantomime struggling against the bindings.

  "Looks like one of my men needs a lesson in tying knots," he said in that deep, gravelly voice.

  He walked over to me with all the confidence in the world and crouched, gripping my chin hard with his hand and forcing me to look up at him.