Concealed Affliction (32 page)

I lean back in my chair and rub my hands over my tired face. I’ve thought about this a million times. I know what he would want me to do in this situation, but he’s not here anymore to confirm it for me.

“May I call you Jayne?”

I nod my head in the positive.

“Jayne, this not my first case involving murder, in fact I have done this more than a dozen times. You will say part of what you originally did. You were knocked out, the contusions on your head and lack of blood supporting that claim. You heard a struggle, you heard the men in the room. However when you woke up, they were both dead and bleeding out on the floor.”

I look Andrei in the eye through all of this, knowing this is very much similar to what I had planned to say, but in the same sense I feel as though lying taints Cory’s death. Would he have been okay with that? With what I’m possibly about to do? Lying to the police?

Probably.

But he’s not here to confirm it for me. Since I no longer have Lilly, or any immediate family to worry about, what’s keeping me from spending time in jail?

I know what’s keeping me from there; it’s that I don’t feel as though I deserve it. I feel like I should be free because justice was served no matter how long I drew out Andrew’s torture. The sick fuck deserved it and then some. He killed my family and he tried to kill me for Christ’s sake. He ruined my life.

Fucking right he deserved it
!

That thought in mind, I nod in acknowledgment to Andrei Patrov.

* * *

I’ve been in this tiny interrogation room for two hours. I was let out to use the washroom, for which I was thankful. But being back here is like listening to a broken record.

I’ve learned that Andrei Patrov is a lion in battle. He fights when it’s needed and calls Braumer’s bluff more often than I expected. He definitely knows his way around the law and what to do to get me out of here. I’m only half listening to what is being said around me, not because I’m not interested in my fate, but because I can’t be bothered to listen to the same thing over and over again.

Braumer’s questioning once again pulls me out of my head.

“Please explain, Ms. O’Connor, why partials of your fingerprints were found on the knife used to torture and kill Andrew Roberts?”

“I told you before, I used it when I woke up to cut the bloody rope off of my wrists.”

He slams his hand down on the table.

“Here’s what I think! I think you used it to kill him after Cory used it to cut you free. I think, Cory was too weak to fight anymore from the stab wound to his chest, he died and you then took the opportunity to avenge his death by killing Andrew Roberts! Isn’t that how it went down?”

“That’s enough! My client will not be badgered or belittled by you or anyone else in this department. Unless you are here to charge her with the death of Andrew Roberts, then this conversation is over. If you need to speak with her again you will contact me directly.”

I’m led out of the room. My feet don’t move me quick enough. I have no belongings to collect since Denny drove last night and I never bothered taking my bag with me, my pockets too were empty. At the moment even if I did have belongings to collect they would have to be pretty damn important for me to stop and pick them up.

I storm out the front door and take a huge lung full of fresh air. In doing so I start to crave a cigarette to taint the freshness—and a whole lot of alcohol.

“You need to stay close, O’Connor. I will do what I can to help you and also try to find out why that man despises you so much.”

“No need to put it kindly, Patrov. He fucking hates me.”

Andrei chuckles at my choice of vocabulary and does nothing to correct me.

“Thank you, for your help. My ride is over there and I desperately need a shower.”

“You go. If I need you I will be in touch.”

I walk down the sidewalk, cutting through the parked civilian vehicles when a black town car cuts off my path to Denny. The window is rolled down by the time it comes to a stop and there in the back sits Foley.

“Be smart, Ms. O’Connor,” he says.

“Go fuck yourself, Foley.”

I move to go around his vehicle but his words slow me down.

“Claudia Becker is pregnant. I trust you won’t get in the way, or contact Mr. Callaghan. If you do I will make sure you regret it.”

I waste no time in rushing over to Denny’s Suburban. I don’t wait for hugs, I don’t say hello.

“Get me the fuck out of here, please.”

He wastes no time in doing just that.

Chapter Thirty

I sit low on my haunches when Norm comes barreling out the back door of Jimmy’s shop. I missed my girl, clearly she felt the same. We have not for one night been separated since the attack. The only thing that kept us apart was me being in the hospital. Before that, she was with me every day since my family died—she even attended the funeral.

I give her as much love for as long as I can before I head inside to shower. I feel like a layer of filth is on me, not knowing who stayed in that cell before Laura and I did. I climb the steps up to the apartment and am greeted by Jimmy and some other large male who I’ve never met before. I don’t get a chance to speak before Jimmy has me in his arms.

“Fuck. Had I of known you were going to end up in jail I wouldn’t have gone out last night. Worst fucking part is I didn’t find out until this morning, and those cunts at the station wouldn’t let you have any visitors aside from a lawyer.”

“I’m alright Jimmy. But I need you to let me go so I can shower. I feel like I caught an STD in that place.”

He gives me a quick kiss on the head before letting me go.

“Laura called, she’ll be over soon.”

“Alright. Give me thirty, or an hour please.”

I let him go and walk toward the hallway. I realize I forgot to ask who the big bastard on the couch is.

“Who are you?”

“Ivan. You met my cousin today.”

His accent is much more pronounced than Andrei’s. He’s also about one hundred pounds heavier with a huge head. I wouldn’t want to piss him off.

“Yes I did. Nice to meet you, and thanks. But I need some time.”

I point my thumb in the direction of the bathroom and don’t bother with any other pleasantries as I head to the heaven that is the shower.

* * *

I soak, scrub and shave every nook and crevice on my body, not stopping until the water runs cold. I blow dry my hair and paint my face. Not because I need to, but because I crave to be in control of what I put on and how I look, ultimately hoping it’ll change how I feel.

The only thing I want to do when I leave the bathroom is sleep, and maybe manage something small to eat. I also need to talk to Denny and see if Maverick made any progress at the cabin. I hope they did, but somehow I know he would’ve told me on the drive back to Jimmy’s if anything substantial were to come up.

I put on a loose fitting pair of worn in ripped jeans and an old worn out long sleeve black top. I have no desire to impress, I have nowhere to go. I just need comfort and armor at the moment.

I hear arguing coming from the living room and what I most certainly can tell is Laura’s voice. I have no idea what rant she could be onto now, and at the moment I don’t care. I take my time in the bathroom and quietly cross the hall into Jimmy’s bedroom.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and stare out the window, reminding myself most jail cells don’t have windows and the one last night was a small exception. I allow myself a minute to be thankful for the help of Ryder’s men, and people like Bryan Miller.

I absorb the sunlight coming in through the window and the feel of it warming my skin. I noticed my bag on the floor next to the bed when I sat down and waste no time in digging out my smokes. I never smoke in my bedroom, but this one isn’t mine and it already faintly smells of them. Most likely because the first thing Jimmy does after nailing some nameless woman is light one up.

My solitude is short lived when I feel a large body sink down to sit at the end of the bed. I was going to look, but I don’t. I can smell him. I can feel him. I know who it is without turning around to verify it.

He says nothing as he sits there, but I sense him looking at me. Studying me. Wondering when I’m about to crack.

Soon, I think to myself.

My breakdown last night is evidence I can only hold strong for so long before I finally need a break. One might think living the way I have for the past half a year or so is a break. But it’s not. When that time is constantly spent assessing your surroundings and watching your back, there is no real
break.
It was like a full-time job. Add in a few nightmares and a lot of paranoia, what you have left is a woman who most certainly will fucking
break
at some point.

My emotions are bleeding through and essentially corrupting the cold-hearted bitch I had become. Some think the mind runs the heart. Some think the heart runs the body. Essentially I think everything works together. My heart was cold, but my mind was focused enough to keep me alive.

Now my heart is unfocused, all over the place, not knowing for one second what I should feel. In turn my mind is trying to make sense of all these new emotions and not knowing where to stick them to keep myself on the cold-hearted track. It’s like my brain has run out of space to hide everything I care about and now it has just come crashing in all at once.

My dead family.

Laura.

Jimmy.

And now, Ryder.

“I never fucked Claudia while we were together, Elle.”

His words give me a bit of shock, but not enough for my half-empty soul to process at the moment. Being mentally and emotionally drained has taken its toll on me.

“Do you have anything to say to that?”

My voice is low, tired and beaten. “I’m tired Ryder. I spent the night in jail after being apprehended at my daughter’s grave. I’m all out of words. I’m just...........I’m just all out of everything.”

I put out my smoke and continue with my blank stare out the window. I don’t look at him, I can’t right now. Or maybe I don’t want to burst this small little bubble of pleasure I have at staring out the window. The bright sun in the sky is completely at odds with how I feel. Ryder’s next words catch me completely off guard.

“I was blackmailed. Becker blackmailed me which caused me to leave Indy. I didn’t want to worry you with what he said, so I went to Chicago to be his fucking dog for a week and escort his daughter to a fundraiser. He figured out who you were, don’t ask me how. But he did, and he used it against me, telling me he would basically hang you out to dry if I didn’t cooperate with him. I promise you babe I never touched her, I didn’t want to touch her. I haven’t been with anyone since I met you, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

I soak in the news with a mild bit of hope and then I remember Foley’s parting words when I left the station.

Do I think the child belongs to Ryder
?

No.

He’s too smart for that.