Masked Definitions

by A. E. Murphy

  “Liv,” I correct and smile up at the handsome man. I can’t help but compare him to Elijah and even though Elijah wins, I’d have to be blind not to be attracted to him at least a little bit.

  “Liv…” His eyes widen and they cut to Elijah. “Liv… the Liv?”

  Elijah shifts uncomfortably as I ask, “the Liv?”

  He leans into me, glancing around at the people in the fancy restaurant. Only a few are looking over, interested in the handsome men no doubt. “Enna.”

  “Ro,” Elijah admonishes, his eyes rolling to the ceiling.

  My mouth falls open with shock, my body clenching and not in the good way. He told him. He fucking told him. “You told him?”

  “He’s my best friend,” Elijah hisses, also glancing around. Jethro leads us to the table he had reserved for us, then motions for us to sit. He and Elijah both move to pull my seat out for me. When Elijah growls at Jethro like a wild beast, Jethro laughs and holds his hands up defensively.

  We all sit, silent. Jethro grins at the table, Elijah glares at Jethro and I glare at Elijah. It’s not until the waitress comes and goes that they finally speak.

  “We’ve always told each other everything.” Jethro states with a shrug.

  “You signed a non-disclosure agreement.” I level Elijah with a stare. “You aren’t supposed to tell anyone my identity.”

  “I needed to figure out my next move.”

  “So?”

  “So you two are in a full blown affair now?” Jethro cuts in, seeming far too excited by this prospect.

  “Say it a little louder, Ro. Table twenty in China didn’t fucking hear you.” Elijah brings his glass of water to his lips and tips his head back. “Is it too early for a rum?”

  “Yes,” I say as Jethro says, “Probably.”

  “Aren’t you going to judge us?” I ask curiously. I’m surprised at how unperturbed he seems by this revelation.

  “Judge us?” Elijah releases a bark of laughter. “This guy has slept with more married women in the past year alone than I’ve met in my entire life.”

  Jethro rolls his eyes. “I’ve slept with three and a half…”

  “A half?”

  “She was engaged not married.”

  Elijah raises a brow. “It was the night before her wedding.”

  “What can I say? These taken bitches can’t resist me.” He smooths his jacket lapels down with both hands and winks at me.

  “Do you not feel guilty?”

  He shakes his head after thinking on it for a moment. “No, married women are better lays than single women. They don’t expect you to call them back and they’re so deprived of sex they’re fucking animals.”

  At this, Elijah chokes on his drink. “Don’t put shit like that in her head, Ro.”

  Is that why Elijah is with me? Because he knows I won’t be able to take more from him than I can give?

  “Speaking of married women, how’s your sister?” Jethro asks, effectively changing the subject.

  “Stay away from my sister,” Elijah warns just as the food arrives at the table.

  An omelette appears before me; it looks divine, smells it too. Elijah has a huge cooked breakfast, as does Jethro; I have never been a huge fan of bacon or sausages, as weird as that probably is.

  “I thought your sister was divorced?” I ask Elijah, thinking back to his wonderfully funny sister who accepted me so easily.

  “She is, as of a month ago.”

  “No kidding? You didn’t tell me.” Jethro takes a huge bite of toast.

  “There’s a reason for that,” Elijah mutters, though we both hear him. Jethro only grins, his cheeks swollen with food.

  I smile at my plate and finish my breakfast.

  “How are things with Penelope?” I notice how Jethro’s crystal green eyes come to me as he says this.

  “She’s fighting me for more money.”

  I blink; I didn’t know.

  “She hasn’t got enough?” Jethro seems as surprised as I feel.

  “She wants the York clubs.”

  “What a bitch.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She won’t get them.” Elijah also glances at me. “Jethro owns one of the most successful construction companies in the entire world. Why don’t we talk about that?”

  “That sounds interesting,” I agree. “How come you’re the most successful?”

  “My company uses only ecologically friendly materials. The houses we build, for example, generate their own electricity.”

  “That’s amazing.” I nod, impressed.

  He winks at me again. “Why thank you, my dear. We have a few in creation right now, just outside Oxford. I’ll give you a tour when they’re finished.”

  “Watch yourself,” Elijah warns, though I hear the humour in his tone.

  “Possessive, aren’t we, my Lord?”

  At this I nudge Elijah’s knee under the table with my own. He rests his hand on mine and squeezes.

  “Forgetting where you are?” Jethro comments, nodding to our joined hands on the white tablecloth.

  He’s right and I release Elijah immediately. Oops.

  “Sorry.”

  “No harm done, nobody is even glancing our way. It’s not as though you’re famous, Eli.”

  I smile at hearing Elijah’s shortened name, just as I smiled when I heard Jethro’s. If they allow each other to call one another these shortened names, they truly must have known each other a lifetime. I can’t imagine that they share these names with anyone else.

  “So how did you two meet?” I ask as the waiter takes our empty plates.

  “Unfortunately that’s going to have to be a story for the journey home,” Elijah says, checking his watch.

  “Such a shame that you can’t stay longer.” I say to Jethro, who shrugs and responds, “It is what it is. I’ll see you both out.”

  I give them privacy after saying my goodbyes and then finally take my place by Elijah’s side at the entrance of the restaurant. He takes my elbow in his hand and leads me back towards the direction of the car park.

  “You drove four hours for an hour?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a good friend.”

  “He’d have done the same for me.”

  I peek at him through my lashes. This man has so much depth to him. When I first met him I assumed him to be cold and calculating and though I know that he most likely has that side to him, he’s also warm and caring. Penelope once said that he was cruel, shallow, inconsistent and ignorant. I’ve yet to see any of these traits in him. Now I’m wondering if it is her with the issues, considering she’s trying to take him for half of everything.

  “I’m sorry you’re going through a bit of a messy divorce,” I finally find the courage to say after climbing into the sleek, black BMW.

  “Don’t be.” I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it so I don’t push him for information, no matter how badly I want to pry. “So… we have a few hours to burn. What would you like to do?”

  I shrug. “This is my first time out of York.”

  “Ah, yes, I remember you telling me. That just won’t do.” His lips purse as he thinks on it. I watch his profile as he stares out at the road. “Let’s get out of the city, to start.”

  “Really?” He carefully pulls out as I buzz with excitement.

  His grin mirrors my own happiness. “Really.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Burnham-on-crouch.”

  “What’s in Burnham?”

  “…On-Crouch,” he corrects, still grinning. “It’s a cute little seaside town. I’ve never visited but I’ve heard good things.”

  “As long as I’m with you,” I murmur and his hand squeezes my thigh.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I got worried…” Max goes on, his tone angry. His long legs carry him back and forth between the doorway and the fireplace.

  I shut him out. I can’t do this anymore. My mind takes me back to a happy place.

  �
��Let’s go there!” I grin, pointing at a set of large brown doors that link two high walls together.

  “It’s closed.” Elijah frowns and tugs on the large, double gate.

  “It’s an adventure playground.” My lips pinch together as I try to stifle my smile.

  “I repeat… it’s closed.”

  “I’ve never been to an adventure playground.”

  He blinks at me, impassive. “I’ll bring you back one day, when it’s open.”

  “Haven’t you ever done anything naughty, Elijah?”

  He quirks a high brow, his eyes glittering dangerously. “You know I have.”

  “Give me a boost.”

  “This is illegal.”

  “No one is even around to see.”

  “Ever heard of CCTV?”

  I roll my eyes. “We aren’t going to damage anything and I highly doubt they’re going to track down two adults for playing on a swing. Come on.”

  He finally relents, crouching down and lacing his fingers together. I put my foot on his hands and push myself up and over the high gate, praying that there is no anti-vandal paint waiting to ruin my clothing and mark me as the criminal I am. Thanks to my amazing upper body strength, I don’t even have to use my bad hand for anything but balance.

  “If I’d done that to you…”

  “You would never do that to me, Max. You can’t accept the fact that I might be able to function without you,” I respond bitterly.

  “I fucking love you!”

  “No… you FUCKING OWN ME!” I scream, finally losing my shit. My entire body trembles as adrenaline spreads through my limbs.

  “And don’t forget it,” he hisses, his hands fisting by his sides. “We’re just going through a rough patch.” This is said more to himself than it is to me. “It’ll get better.”

  I laugh coldly and wander to the closet. He comes up behind me and everything in me tenses when I feel his hands wrap around my biceps from behind. “Get off me.”

  “Now I’m not allowed to touch you?”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Oh you are never in the mood.” At last he releases me and moves to the bed. “I wanted to go out for the day.”

  “Stop sulking. I’m fucking sick of you sulking like a child.”

  Hurt, round, brown eyes come to my face. “Who the hell are you, Liv?”

  “I don’t even know anymore,” I say. “I just…”

  “You aren’t leaving me.” He implores, determination in his eyes. “You can get that idea out of your head.”

  “You’re suffocating me.”

  “How?” I almost laugh at how affronted he looks.

  “I have no friends.”

  “Probably because you’re a bitch.”

  I grit my teeth. There’s just no talking to him. He’ll never listen. He’ll never be fucking wrong.

  I take a breath to calm myself and decide to just leave the room.

  There’s no changing him. I knew that when I married him, so there’s little use in remaining in the same space that he is in.

  “Where are you going now?” I exit the room before he can stop me, though he follows close behind. “Liv…”

  “Is everything okay?” I’m relieved to see Elijah making his way down the hall, his eyes flitting between us. I wonder if he heard me yelling. I hope not. I don’t want him to think I’m some kind of raging banshee. I’m not. I usually have more tact than that, but I’ve hit my limit.

  “Mind your own,” Max snarls and a scream escapes me when he catches my arm and tugs me back towards him. It’s my broken arm.

  Bile rises in my throat as the pain intensifies. I feel like dropping to my knees.

  I see a blur of white and stagger back when Elijah shoves Max into the wall in a way that tells me Elijah knows how to fight. He manoeuvred Max so swiftly without allowing him to yank me along with the force. The pain doesn’t vanish but it lessens as I cradle it to my chest.

  Max is pressed up against the wall, his eyes wide with a hand around his throat, though it isn’t choking him. It is only holding him in place, firmly not dangerously.

  “Olivia, go to my office.”

  “Get the fuck off me, Elijah,” Max croaks, his hands gripping the one around his neck.

  I’m frozen to the spot. I don’t know what to do. I feel torn.

  “Olivia, go to my office.”

  “Don’t fight,” I beg, my eyes flickering between the two of them. “Please.”

  “Go to my office.”

  “Liv…” Max chokes out. His face is red with anger and from the pressure of Elijah’s hand.

  Elijah finally releases him and turns to me. “Olivia, go on up to my office while I talk to my brother.”

  “Olivia, we aren’t done talking.”

  “You are,” Elijah spits.

  I take a step back, wondering what to do.

  “Please,” Elijah says with the same intensity that I expelled only moments ago.

  “I’ll be in your office.”

  “Liv.”

  “Don’t fucking talk to me, Max.” I say, heading towards the stairs.

  “Get the fuck off me,” Max demands. I stop at the top of the stairs, especially when I hear Elijah’s voice drop to a deeper, quieter note.

  “You’re going to calm down and we’re going to discuss how you aren’t ever going to put your hands on Olivia again.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I race up to Elijah’s office, wondering why he’s sent me here as opposed to anywhere else in the house. I hope he and Max don’t fight, Max needs him. Max needs him and I’m ruining any possibility that they will ever be friends.

  The thought rips through me. Maybe Elijah can be Max’s rock when I leave him.

  When…

  Am I leaving Max?

  Will it be possible to leave Max?

  The thought scares me, not because I depend on him, but because I know what will happen if I try.

  I can’t shake what happened the last time I tried.

  I feel as though a year passes before the door clicks open and Elijah steps into the room.

  I stand from his chair that I was spinning on childishly. My first thought is to scan him up and down for injury and when I see he looks as unruffled as he could be under the circumstances, I sag with relief.

  “Are you okay?” He asks and closes the door before leaning back against it.

  I nod. “You?”

  He nods. We stare at one another.

  “Max has gone to work. I got him to calm down, though how I convinced him to leave is beyond me. I don’t trust him to not come back.” He tells me and turns. I watch as his long fingers twist the lock on the door. My heart thuds in my chest the second it clicks. “If I help you…”

  “Help me?”

  “If I help you, will you leave him?”

  “I…” I bite hard on my lip, so hard I almost draw blood. “Help me how?”

  “However you desire. Surely you haven’t missed how unstable he is?”

  “Of course I haven’t missed it.”

  “He needs professional help.”

  “I’m aware. He won’t accept it.”

  His jaw clenches. “I know. I want you away from him.”

  Is this asking me to be with him? My mouth goes dry. I’m not prepared for this. I didn’t ever think that he’d ever…

  “I’ll set you up an account, help you get on your feet. You won’t have to dance anymore. You can live in one of my homes in another city.”

  In another city?

  “Have you done any research into your brother at all?” I ask, my tone one of disbelief.

  “Research?”

  “I can’t leave Max, Elijah.” Admitting it squashes my many plans to do just this.

  “You can’t or you won’t?” His face becomes a hardened mask and I realise that he doesn’t understand.

  “Can’t.” I reach for him with my good hand. “I’m sorry. Let me e
xplain…”

  “You don’t need to explain your rejection.” He bites bitterly.

  “Rejection?” My eyes blink as the reality of what is happening here sinks in. “I… that’s not…”

  “I thought…” He interrupts and runs his hands through his hair. I see a vulnerability shining from deep within his eyes before they become frosty once more. It was only for a moment but I know it was there. “So do we just fuck again? Once more? For old time’s sake?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I’ve never fucked somebody over my desk before.” He tells me and begins to unbutton his belt. “Well come on then, I don’t have all day.”

  I stand motionless, wondering what the fuck is happening. “I’m confused.”

  “You’re not leaving him and I’m not doing this anymore. I am not the type of man that allows himself to be second best to another. You’ve made your choice.” He steps into my space, his deep voice heavy with venom.

  “It’s more complicated than that.” I don’t realise that he’s backed me into his desk until I feel it press against the underswells of my arse.

  “Is it?”

  “Trust me…”

  “Not anymore.” He hits me with that final blow and releases the button of his pants. “So are you going to fuck me or not?”

  “You’re kidding,” I whisper, feeling my eyes burn. He doesn’t respond, only reaches for my jeans and hooks his fingers into the top of them. I gasp and push them away. “No.”

  “No?” He looks surprised. Why the surprise?

  “No. I’m not having sex with you. Not like this.”

  “Then what the fuck are you still doing in my office?”

  My breath stills in my lungs, unable to leave and too heavy and thick for any more to enter. “I…”

  “Go back to your husband.”

  What the hell is happening? “Eli…”

  He steps around me and claims his seat. “I could replace you in a second.” His voice is mumbled. “In a fucking second.” I hear every word and I let them cut me deep, so deep I doubt I’ll ever heal.

  “Replace me then,” I spit and turn away before he can see the first tear fall. “See if I care.” Forgetting about the anti-slamming mechanism above the door, I try to yank it shut behind me and almost scream with frustration when it stops and slowly closes itself. Door, one. Olivia, zero.