Concealed Affliction (36 page)

“O’Connor, you’ve got a visitor.”

I turn toward the opening door of my cell and follow yet another guard. She leads me through the same series of hallways I came through, ending up outside of a small meeting room.

She opens the door for me and I see my lawyer sitting at the table. As much as I wish it was a more friendly face of the dark haired variety, I’m still happy to see him.

“How are you holding up?”

I shrug my shoulders, not much to say.

“Listen, I am sorry I could not do more for you yesterday. I assure you, this was completely out of my control. This has everything to do with William Becker and nothing at all to do with you.”

“I know that Andrei, I’m not upset with you.”

“Okay. Look, I don’t think it is just Becker. Ryder and his team have been working around the clock. We don’t have proof, but we are certain it was Braumer who found the woman and possibly paid her to make those claims. Cabe found a list of priors for her. Mostly petty crime and drug charges. Want to guess who the arresting officer was?”

Fuck.

“Braumer.”

“You are right. If I’m not mistaken, Braumer has become close with either Foley or Becker. I can’t be sure, but my gut tells me so.”

What are the odds that I would end up in the middle of this mess? I’d like to say that karma has come back to kick me in the ass, but haven’t I been knocked down enough? Haven’t I lost enough? Sacrificed enough?

“Denny followed the woman who is charging you, Bonnie Macintosh, after they left the police station. He has been on her ever since. She lives with a friend in a low income apartment building and has a two-year-old son. I have no doubt that Braumer had leverage, or William forked out some money. We have no idea which is correct, so Denny and Ivan will take turns watching the apartment to see who comes by, or who she goes to see.”

I rest my elbows on the table and put my head into my hands, wondering how my life went from worrying about someone who wants me dead, to keeping good graces with a mayor.

“What happens on Tuesday, Andrei?”

He closes the notepad in front of him.

“It will depend on what Denny and Ivan find out. If this woman follows through with charging you, I need to work on figuring out ways to prove that it was not you. She has priors, but they believe you have a history of violence. I have won all of my cases but a handful when I first became a lawyer. My skills are good, but when people are bought it makes it hard for me to plead a case on deaf ears.

“I assure you that Ryder, his team and myself will not stop until we get you out of here. That’s a promise.”

I nod my head. Hoping the men can figure this out. If not...

“You’re aware of how much money I have?”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says.

I clasp my hands in front of me and lean forward, speaking in a hushed tone.

“Then if you have to pay her, or someone else more than what they are getting—you do it. Just get me the fuck out of here, Patrov.”

I don’t wait for him to answer. I know our conversation is finished.

I head to the door and knock twice for the guard to escort me back to my cell.

Chapter Thirty-four

I don’t know why I dream. Maybe the same reason everybody else does, to picture ourselves somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away from where we currently are.

Somewhere with sunshine and water. Hell, who am I kidding? Somewhere in the cold bush with a fucking rainstorm would be a dream right now. This bed is dry, the room is warm, but I still would rather be anywhere but here.

I take that back. Not anywhere. I once would have wished for this place over the basement at Andrew’s. Regardless, I dream. Daydream that is. I’m still very much awake and not comfortable enough to fall asleep.

I hear cries of other women. I hear swearing and other voices. I hear the squeak of shoes up and down the hallway. What I don’t expect to hear is the opening of my cell while the lights in my room are off.

I feign sleep, hoping this is one of the checks the guard woman told me about.

I’m not that lucky.

“On your feet, O’Connor.”

Shivers run down my spine and the hair on my neck stands up. I crack my eyes and move to my feet beside the bed, coming face to face with the guard who teased me with my dinner.

“You will remain quiet and not wake the other inmates. You will follow me to block B and you will not act out of line. Is that understood?”

I would love to act out right now. I would love to use the moves Brock taught me, but I know none of that will help me.

“Yes.”

His evil eyes look me over from top to toe, making me want to find a heavy sweater to cover myself with. I know if I reach for the thin one on the top bunk he’ll stop me. So I settle for shrinking myself down into the shirt I have on.

“Let’s move. No noise, O’Connor.”

I nod my head and follow him out the door and to the left. He grabs onto my arm and leads me through a series of hallways I’ve not been in before. I look to the wall outside the empty guard station and note the time.

12:13 a.m.

I follow him down a set of steps, albeit very open and airy ones. I can see into the courtyard through a window in the stairwell so I know we’re only on the ground floor. Hoping that’s as far as we go, I let him steer me down yet another hallway. This one is much darker than the one I came from. He opens a door at the end with a key and pushes me forward into darkness. I hear the door lock behind me and a motion sensor light comes on.

“Keep moving O’Connor.”

I see the steps in front of me. Only four. Half underground. I could do it, but the damp smell sets in and takes me back there. I close my eyes, feeling his sweaty hand grab onto my arm.

I won’t fall.

I won’t break down.

I don’t look as he leads me down, I don’t pay attention. I keep my eyes closed and my mouth shut like a good little inmate. I focus on the sound of blood whooshing through my ears and the way my hair feels on my neck. I focus on the sound of my canvas shoes on the floor.

“I’m getting paid a pretty penny to bring you down here, not that I wouldn’t do it for free. I hear you’re afraid of the dark? Or is it just going downstairs?”

I cringe and slightly cower away from him but unfortunately it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Scream, complain, and tell somebody what I told you. It doesn’t matter. Nobody cares. You see, it will always be the word of the upstanding guard against the inmate. And you know what O’Connor?” he asks, breathing heavily into my ear.

“The guard always wins.”

I hear a door open before being roughly shoved forward into another tomb of blackness. I pray and hope he didn’t follow me in, but I learned a long time ago that what I want is rarely what will be.

The light in the hallway reflects his silhouette in the doorway. I don't take in much of my surroundings, only note this room is smaller than the one I was in. There’s a bed at least, although at the moment I wish there wasn’t.

“I only have a minute or two before I need to get back, so this will be quick. I’d tell you to be quiet, but I don’t think anyone will hear you.”

His words are the only notice I get before his fist comes at my face. I stumble backward and scold myself for not being more prepared. I haven’t hit the wall yet and his fist comes back full force into my eye. I move my arms up to block his next hit, wanting so badly to beat him but afraid of the consequences that could bring in this place.

“Ah, Ah, Ah! Hands down. I’m finished, for now. Now stay still.”

I see the bright flash of a camera before my eyes squeeze shut at the blinding light. I hear the squeaking of rusty hinges before the room is in darkness. My face throbs, my eye burns and I feel blood running down my face. I remind myself I wasn’t raped, or tortured. I can overcome this.

I have endured worse, I have been hurt more.

I crawl toward the bed and lift myself up onto it. I don’t lay down, I’m too afraid to sleep. I put my back to the wall and pull my knees up to my chest. The concrete is cool at my back, but I don’t dare move.

My body begins to shake, and my hands start to tremble.

I will not cry.

I will not give in.

* * *

Ryder

“What do you got, Ivan?”

I sent him to relieve Denny, watching over the woman who claims mine beat her. One look at Bonnie and I knew this was not her doing. Hell, I knew it before then. This woman may not be a great one, but she sure as shit didn’t want to accuse my woman of beating her.

Bonnie has a few minor drug charges and a petty theft conviction. From what Brock told me she spends more time with her kid at the park than she does drugs. This screams Becker. Or Braumer. Fuck I can’t keep those two straight anymore with the amount of shit they cause.

“Same as Denny. No visitors. She took the kid for pizza and went straight back home.”

“Alright, we’ll sit on her one more night. If she gives us nothing by tomorrow afternoon, we go in and figure out who the fuck is pulling her strings.”

“Got it, Boss.”

I hang up the phone and pace Jimmy’s apartment. I should have left by now. I should have got a room at the hotel. For some reason I can’t. I feel closer to her here. Jimmy has a spare room that I’ve stayed in. Not slept, but stayed. I’m still confused as to why Elle—
Jayne? Fuck it, she’s my Elle—
slept in the same room with him, but after a long talk with the guy he assured me it’s just always been their thing.

I’m a guy and I’m not fucking stupid. Elle is beautiful. What man wouldn’t want a piece of her? I told him this and he actually told me they haven’t slept together in over ten years, and only the one time because he said if he had a sister, he assumes that’s what it would’ve felt like to fuck her.

After that fucked up conversation, I let it go. It didn’t take me long to figure out why she loves this guy so much. He’s one of the most grounded of people I’ve ever met. Solid guy, and intelligent. Two good things in my book.

My ringing phone stops me from wearing a hole through the floor.

Unknown number.

“Callaghan.”

“Since you are answering your phone, I can assume you are not on a plane back to Chicago?”

“You’d assume right. Your contract with Callaghan Security is over. I will not now, or ever, fucking work with you again. Now get the fuck out of Canada, your time’s up.”

Hearty male laughter comes from the other end of the line. Why this prick wants me with his daughter so bad is beyond me. There are dozens of qualified security specialists who would die to work for him and have no fucking problem dropping their jeans for his bitch of a daughter.