Concealed Affliction (22 page)

I pause in my steps and look at this contradicting man.

“So while I wasn’t just some random woman, you still felt the need to run to another one Ryder?”

He shoves his hands through his hair.

“It wasn’t like that, Elle. Fuck, I didn’t think I’d see you again in all honesty.”

“It’s okay Ryder. I get it. Just answer one question for me. Did you fuck her after you first saw my scars and took off for work? Or was it when you left me in Indy? Actually, you know what, I don’t want to know.”

He looks down to the ground, avoiding eye contact.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

I know what he means, and as much as I didn’t want to know, I’m thankful for the information. It still confirms what a sack of shit he is. If I were weaker I’d belittle myself and think what kind of man wouldn’t want some smooth-skinned beautifully poised woman after witnessing the hell that is my back.

But I’m stronger than that weak belittling woman
.

Fuck him, fuck her, and fuck you too.

“Well, that’s refreshing. You know, I once said I didn’t want to be a job to you. But that’s exactly what I was, wasn’t it Ryder?”

His head whips up, his black eyes piercing mine.

“That’s not true!”

I walk closer, so we’re toe to toe. I look up into those black eyes for what I’m sure will be the last time.

“You didn’t fuck me until I accepted your help. Is that your game Ryder? Bring in the clients, then fuck them? In both senses of the word? Because it sounds like poor Claudia missed you while you were here, working with and fucking me. I guess it’s true what they say, isn’t it?”

Hard eyes stare back at mine.

“What’s that, Elle?”

“Don’t mix business with pleasure. It’s like oil and water handsome, they don’t mix. Hopefully not being able to keep your dick in your pants doesn’t affect your reputation.”

“When did you become such a bitch again, Elle. Huh? Answer that!”

I lean in close, speaking low.

“I was a bitch from the day you met me. The only difference now is that you actually deserve to see this side of me. You deserve it and anything else karma fucks you with. I gave you something I never gave anybody, so shame on you, Ryder Callaghan, for taking that for granted. I promise, you’ll regret it.”

He hisses through clenched teeth.

“I already do.”

I take a step back and put my sunglasses on.

“Good.”

I step around him and walk toward my truck. I don’t look back when I open the door to throw my bag in. I don’t acknowledge that Norma is still sitting at his feet when I whistle for her. I don’t let the fact that he looks incredibly remorseful and defeated get to me.

I don’t think anything, I don’t do anything. I just move, like I’m on auto pilot. I get the dog in the truck. I put on my seatbelt. I turn on the truck. I back out of the driveway. I drive.

All, on auto pilot.

Feeling nothing.

Seeing nothing.

Smelling nothing.

Numb.

Chapter Nineteen

“Identification please, ma’am.”

I fucking hate ma’am. Almost as much as I hated the last shit motel we stayed at. This trip was not as well planned as the others. Long story short, I slept on top of the covers and debated getting a bottle of bleach to bathe with.

Traveling with a large dog is not always glamorous and a lot of people don’t always want them in their establishment. This left us with ‘The Nifty Fifty’ alongside the interstate.

It wasn’t ‘Nifty’.

It wasn’t clean
.

I hand over my passport, plastering on my fake but tired from traveling smile. The young border security guard I don’t even think reads my name before he’s handing it back to me. Maybe the pricey visit to the salon wasn’t needed after all.

“Thank you, ma’am. Where you headed?”

I look at my poor dog in the rear view mirror and point over my shoulder.

“First stop will be a large patch of grass. Second is just north of Toronto.”

He nods his head, not giving a shit what I’m saying.

“Okay, drive safe.”

I give a small wave over my shoulder and wonder how much money I could’ve made smuggling a few pounds of blow just now, or how much safer I’d have felt being back in Canada with my hand guns. I totally could’ve brought them.

Errant thoughts of drug smuggling and weapons aside, I drive on.

I do as I told him and stop at the next rest area, letting my girl out and stretching my legs. I’d like to say it feels good to be back home, or bad. Something, anything. But I still feel nothing.

After a much needed bathroom break and recirculating the blood back through my body, we reluctantly get back in the truck. I know where I’m going first, it’s a few more hours but I don’t plan on stopping until I get there.

* * *

I pull up in the driveway and punch in the code for the large wooden gate to the rear parking lot.

Still the same.

The gate opens and I pull in, watching it close fully behind me before driving around back. There’s a garage door at the front, but I don’t know how full the shop is so I opted for the back lot.

It’s not huge, but large enough to park about six vehicles with grass at the rear. There’s eight-foot privacy fencing surrounding the lot, which is perfect. Also one of the reasons I chose to come here first.

It’s dark out, but the small light on the back of the building allows me to see enough to get to the door. Norma is wagging her tail, knowing exactly where we are. I wait for her to take care of business before punching in the code for the back door.

I open it and smell the scent of my past. Paint and ink. Slightly sterile, but welcoming all the same. I don’t stick around downstairs. The lights are all off, so I make my way to the apartment upstairs.

Not wanting to scare the living shit out of him, I knock first.

No answer.

I open the door, walk in, and close it behind me. Nothing has changed. Beautiful paintings still line the walls, biker memorabilia takes up every shelf and the big black leather couch looks just as comfy as the last time I was here. I walk around the corner and notice the mess that is his kitchen. Take out boxes and a few empty beer bottles. This place is like his junk drawer, the shop is his pride and joy which he keeps clean.

I make my way down the hall toward the bedroom and peer inside. There he lies, sprawled out on his back, boots still on. His dark brown hair is short but messy. He has always been tanned, always has a scruffy face and always looks handsome. He has a sharp jaw and masculine features. He has tattoos on most of his well-toned body and the ladies flock to him like a fat kid running after the ice cream truck. 

Norma doesn’t waste a minute once she sees him, remembering this is the one house she was allowed on the furniture. She jumps as much as her heavy body can handle and lunges onto the bed. He jumps up, startled, and gets a large white furry dog body plastered to his chest. Norm is whimpering, snuggling into the man she hasn’t seen in almost a year. His arms close around Norma and his eyes move up until they meet mine in the doorway.

“If you were a guy, I’d hit you Jay.”

I smile at my best guy friend, missing our banter.

“I missed you too, Jimmy.”

He shakes his head and gives Norm the love she was waiting for. She flops her body down on his lap. I hear him groan.

“When did Norm put on the pork?”

I push off the doorway and move into the room, flopping down on the bed which smells like hookers and cigarettes, staring up at the ceiling.

“When I found it too hard to cook for one.”

He too flops back on the bed and we both turn to face each other, our heads about two feet apart.

“You park out back?”

I nod my head.

“Didn’t hear the buzzer, I was out cold. I painted until three in the morning, then worked all day.”

That’s definitely something Jimmy would do. When he gets into something, he doesn’t like to stop until it’s finished.

“How’s the shop?”

He stares at me for a few moments then claps his hands, using the cheesy device to turn on his lights. I know why he did it. Sure, the hair and my build is pretty much the same. But being this close, he’d now notice my face. He stares at me for a while, not saying anything. I don’t turn away. Jimmy isn’t judging me, he’s just getting a good view of his new but old best friend.

“You okay with that?”

I know what he’s asking and I answer him truthfully.

“Not the same woman I was when I left here, Jimmy. I’m okay with it because it’s me. The ‘me’ I am now.”

He lets my words soak in and reaches out to push the hair off my face.

“I know. I didn’t know it before, but I get it now.”

I knew he would and I knew he wouldn’t bombard me with a hundred questions when I walked in here. Exactly the reason I came. Well, one of a few.

“I need your help.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Anything.”

“Get your tattoo gun ready. And beer. Oh, and a pizza from Vinnie’s.”

A big grin spreads across his face and he sits up, pushing the dog off before standing.

“You know the way to this man’s heart. I’m going to enjoy your company first and then we’ll talk, babe.”

I give him a small smile, thankful that my returning after such a long absence can be this casual. This is what I love about Jimmy. He’s just that easy going. Laura will be a different story, but I don’t plan on letting her know yet. I can’t hide on Laura’s busy little street. I can hide at Jimmy’s.

I take in a big breath and sit up, ready to experience the pins and needles.

Chapter Twenty