Masked Definitions (19 page)

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Authors: A. E. Murphy

BOOK: Masked Definitions
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“I’ve paid for you already. Now stop being moronic and bend over and show me your fucking pussy.”

My arms fold over my body defensively and I slowly begin to back towards the door. “I’m sorry.”

“This is ridiculous,” he barks, taking three angry strides towards me, forcing me to retreat to the door.

I turn and grab the handle, hoping Shade has seen my retreat and is coming for me already. A solid chest hits my back and I cry out when my hands are ripped away from the door.

“Sha…” A hand slaps over my mouth. I scream through it and thrash as his arm pushes around my front. My scream becomes louder, though it sounds like nothing more than a muffled wail when his trousers drop to his ankles.

“Fucking telling me no,” he hisses in my ear. “Stupid whore.” I claw at his arm but he quickly pins my hands to my chest. Panic swarms me when he pushes his boxers to his knees. “Quiet, slut. I’m getting my money’s worth.”

“Enna!” I feel the door slam against the side of my face as it’s forcefully pushed open. Stars burst in my right eye and pain burns all around it. Shade can’t shift us both out of the way. “ENNA!”

I hear another voice accompany his, a voice that is familiar to me. It’s Elijah’s. “Get away from the door, Liv.”

“I swear on all that is holy, when I get this door open, Holmes, I’m putting a bullet between your eyes.” That’s Rick’s voice.

I’m safe. I just need to move us. If I move us, we’re safe.

Biting hard on the side of his palm, until he cries out and pulls his hand away, I throw my head back and feel a burst of pain when it connects with his jaw. My fight instincts kick in. My feet leave the ground as his arm holds me tight and I press them both against the door and push backwards. He can’t keep his footing due to his boxers constricting his knees and we both crash to the floor.

I feel what can only be described as a snap and then a sharp pain comes with it, burning and aching through my arm. I’ve never felt pain like it. I cry out with it and then cry louder when strong hands grip me under my arms and pull me to my feet. Elijah backs me into the corner, holding my body tight to his as Rick points the barrel of a gun directly between the man’s eyes.

“It’s okay,” Elijah whispers. “You’re safe.”

“My arm,” I whimper, holding it across my chest, too frightened to move it.

“Come on.”

“Shade,” Rick says, keeping his gun on the guy, “show this twat what happens when my girls are hurt.”

Shade, after glancing at me and nodding at Elijah, cracks his knuckles, adjusts his sunglasses and states, “With fucking pleasure.”

Rick tucks the gun away and spits on the man who is half-dressed, lying on the ground. “Let’s go.”

My legs buckle, my strength fading as my vision tunnels. The pain is just too much and the shock is making my head spin and my stomach roil. Elijah picks me up with ease, careful of the arm I’m cradling, and carries me gently out of the room. Just before the door closes, I hear the man scream the most tortured scream I’ve ever heard. It chills me to the bone. Despite what he did, I don’t feel pleasure knowing he’s hurting. I’m just not that kind of person.

 

 

“Don’t touch it!” I shriek when Elijah goes to press my arm with his fingers.

He raises his hands defensively, a frown marring his handsome features. I want to smooth it away with my thumb. My good thumb. How is it that even when I’m in the throes of pain I’m still eager to touch him in some way?

“I’ll arrange transport for you to the hospital…” Rick states, pacing backwards and forwards as he types away on his phone. Sweat beads on his balding head. He looks stressed. I feel relatively calm.

“I’ll take her.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea.”

Elijah straightens. “Not sure you have a choice.”

“Can I please get a gown or something?” I rip the mask off with my good hand and motion to my undressed state.

“Sorry,” both of the men say and spring to action, almost running into each other.

I’d laugh if I didn’t feel so numb and freezing. My jaw starts chattering as soon as Elijah wraps me in my gown. My body finally decides to protect itself against the cold.

“I can’t go to the hospital dressed like this.” I murmur, looking at the satin gown that covers nothing.

“Right.” Elijah starts rummaging through my drawers. I mentally hit my head against a wall, especially when he lifts lingerie and holds it up the light. He does this three times, as if carefully inspecting them to double check that they aren’t actual items of clothing suitable for outside.

“Her clothes are in there,” Rick sighs, and rolls his eyes to me, amusement evident. His phone alerts him to a message and he curses. “I have to go and help with… something.” By the way he deflected the end of his sentence, I’m going to assume he means clean-up of the rapist scumbag.

“Elijah has me,” I assure him, trusting the man who is pulling a pair of jogging bottoms from a hanger. Elijah nods goodbye to Rick and kneels on the ground before me. I rest my good hand on his head for balance as I step into the trousers. He pulls them up slowly, his fingers sliding softly up my thighs with care.

“That fucker,” he whispers and strokes a bruise at the joining of my thigh with the soft tip of his finger.

“That was you.” I clear my throat and look down at him, my teeth biting into my lip.

Regret shines in his eyes. “When?”

“The car... “

“I apologise… bruising you was never my intention.” His thumb skims over the mark as if trying to wipe it away.

I shake my head and smile weakly. “Don’t be sorry. It was the best night of my life.”

His lips part and he stands. His forehead gently touches mine and my breasts brush against his shirt as we breathe together. “Mine too.”

This warms me deep within, reaching places in my soul I’d long since forgotten existed. I feel a tingling in my stomach that can only be described as the warm fuzzies. “Why are you here, Elijah?”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you dancing for another man.”

The warm fuzzies spread. I don’t have time to process what this means as he turns and grabs the shirt he laid out for me. He gently helps me manoeuvre it onto my bad arm before my good arm and then proceeds to do the buttons.

After another moment, I’m in my coat and he’s carrying me to the elevator. I wince with each bump and try to keep my hand as tight to my body as possible. “I can walk you know.”

“You’re saying this a little bit late; we’re already halfway to my car.” His smile is slight and charming; I know he’s playing.

“Aren’t I heavy?”

“Thankfully not, or I’d be regretting this decision.”

I giggle a little and tuck my forehead into his neck. “This night is officially shit.”

“I bet.” He gives me a gentle squeeze and the doors to the elevator open, letting in a cool draft. His arms remain firm as he carries me through the private parking lot to his car.

“How did you convince Rick to let you see me?”

“I didn’t. I just walked in. Shade normally greets us with a list. If we’re on there we get through.”

I never knew how it worked for a client. Seems too simple.

“Only members get to use the elevator.”

I lean my head back to look at his profile. He places me on my feet but keeps one hand to my elbow to ensure I don’t fall, which is a possibility. My body feels light and trembles beyond my control.

The car lights flash as he unlocks it.

“When I arrived on your floor, I saw Shade press a button on the desk. Rick came from one of the rooms and the other security hustled around just in case they were needed.” He cringes. “When I saw him trying to push the door open to your room…”

I remember how scared I felt. “I knew something wasn’t right the second I stepped into that room.”

He folds himself into the car and fastens his seatbelt before leaning over me to help me with mine. “I don’t want you working there anymore.”

I nod to my arm. “I think that wanker granted that wish. I’m not going to be able to dance for a while. Not sure that a broken armed woman is a turn on.”

“I disagree,” he mutters under his breath. I don’t think he intended for me to hear it so I only smile to myself without responding. “I’m serious, though. You aren’t going back.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t stand it,” he admits, crossing a line that never should have been crossed.

“Don’t,” I plead pathetically.

“Don’t what?” We reverse out of the parking space and move towards the exit.

“Complicate this.”

He bites hard on his lip and shakes his head as if to clear it. “Complicate it?”

“You know what I mean.”

And then he complicates it further when he says, “I’m leaving Penelope.”

Holy fuck. My body tightens, making my arm twitch painfully. “What?”

His eyes remain on the road ahead. “It’s time.”

“Does this have anything to do with me?”

A long and heavy sigh leaves him. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with this now… you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine. It’ll take my mind off it.” My heart beats a rapid rhythm as I await his confession, whatever it may be. “But seriously… what’s going on?”

“I’ve filed for divorce.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Being with you…” His eyes glance at me and his hands twist on the steering wheel. “I guess I finally discovered what real chemistry and passion feel like.”

I nod my agreement. Nobody has ever made me feel as alive as Elijah does. Nobody.

“I want more of that… I know that we can’t go forth with whatever this is. I’m not naive. It’ll burn out eventually and if we choose to continue, with my status and your shady past and present husband, it would shame us both.” Ouch. That stings. “But I like how you make me feel and I want that again.”

I don’t know what to say to any of that. I hide the fact that his words just cut me worse than anything else ever has. Even though I know he’s right, just hearing him say out loud that I’m nothing more than a catalyst for him… masked in lies and deceit… it hurts deeply.

The pain in my arm and trembling of my body become too much, snatching away the focus on the conversation, much to my relief. I don’t want to think about why I feel this way and I don’t want to talk anymore. My feeble pride won’t be able to withstand the blow.

When we make it to the hospital, I’m relieved when Elijah’s status gets us transferred to a private section. He speaks with the doctors as I’m guided to a bed in a spacious room and made to wait. Elijah clicks away on his phone, his forehead crinkled with a frown.

I’m about to ask what is wrong when a porter comes in with a wheelchair. “Got to take you down to X-ray.”

I nod and Elijah carefully helps me onto the wheelchair.

“I’m not going to call Max,” he says quietly after releasing me. “We still need to discuss that.”

I wince. I’d rather not discuss it ever again.

“I can see by your face that you’re planning ways to avoid that subject… it’s not going to be ignored.” He remains in step beside me before barking at the porter, “Will you be careful? You’re shaking her around far too much. Push it in a straight line.”

Wow. I raise my brows at Elijah, who is still staring at his phone. He looks tense and stressed, which is understandable given the circumstances.

I’m certain I should also feel tense and stressed, yet I feel surprisingly calm. Maybe it’s the adrenaline.

 

The X-ray shows that my arm is broken but fortunately it’s a straight break. They put my hand and wrist in a Velcro splint and tell me to return in two days for the cast to be set. Meanwhile Elijah remains silent as he directs me back to his car.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He asks softly and places his hand on my thigh over the console.

“I’m fine. You’ve asked me already.”

“I wish there was more I could do.”

“You’ve done too much already. I’m not your concern,” I remark, startling myself at how bitter I sound.

He seems shocked too but says nothing. I figure he probably thinks I’m in pain and grumpy from it. I still can’t feel much. There’s a dull ache in my arm but nothing dramatic. Not yet anyway.

“I’m tired,” I quietly sigh and rest my forehead against the glass window.

“I bet.” After clearing his throat and drawing delicate patterns on my thigh with his fingertips, he pulls into a petrol station and turns towards me. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“You didn’t see it in the cameras?”

Shifting in his seat, he takes my good hand in his and brings it to his lips. “I’ll just get petrol, okay? Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“Just bed.” I swipe my thumb over the back of his and release him. “Thank you for everything, Elijah.”
Even if you won’t ever see me as more than a slut hole for your cock.

We return home and I take a call from Rick as I pad along the hall. I’ve barely gotten out the word ‘Hello’ when the phone is snatched from my hand and Elijah is snarling.

“Has he been dealt with?” His frown is etched deep. “Good. You can take this as her resignation. Pay her whatever you owe her and cut her loose. She’s not coming back.”

“Elijah,” I cry, wishing I could fight him for the phone. “Give me that.”

He steps away and holds out his hand to keep me back. “Good. I’m glad. No problem. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

My heart deflates slowly. I feel the air seep from it at his words. He’s going back, which means I’m either not his only dancer or he’s going to find a new one. Tears prick my eyes as exhaustion finally sinks in and the adrenaline of the events finally wears off.

“I’m going to bed,” I whisper, turning so he can’t see the torment in my eyes. “Bring my phone up when you’re done.”

“I’m done,” he states and follows swiftly behind me. “What are you going to tell Max?”

“I’ll just tell him I fell at work.”

“He’ll believe it?”

I laugh coldly. “He won’t care.”

“We should talk about him…”

“Not tonight.” I step into my room and kick off my shoes. “Can I have some privacy?”

“Oh… I…” He scratches his head, his eyes confused. “You don’t want me in here?”

“No.”

His eyes round with hurt. “Very well.” Placing my phone on the bedside table, he turns to look at me. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“A new heart?” I mumble.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” My tone is spiteful; I don’t hold back the venom. I don’t have the energy.

“Don’t be like that. I didn’t hear you.”

“I didn’t say anything worth repeating.” My back hits the bed sideways. I immediately regret the landing as it sends a pulse through my body, straight to my arm.

“Fuck,” he curses when I cry out and immediately helps me into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”

I shrug him off, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Stop.”

“I’m only trying to help.”

“Well don’t!” My voice carries loudly through the room, causing him to freeze and gape at me as though I’ve slapped him. “Just leave me alone.”

“Fine,” he hisses and removes himself from the bed. I shift to the pillows and rest back against them. “I won’t ever try to help again.”

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