by Harlow Stone
I stand up and sway a little, steadying myself before making my way to the back of the bar where the washrooms are located.
I open the door and head straight for the stall, assuming I must’ve been dehydrated if I’m only now just making it to the washroom after six beers.
I finish my business and open the stall door, walking toward the sink. There are five, and three are taken up by various women in states of undress. Fixing their makeup and plumping up their tits. I take a short look at myself in the mirror.
Marks are covered, no mascara running down my face, good to go.
I wash my hands and hear a catty voice coming from the handicap stall at the end.
“I don’t know who she is. I’ve never seen him in here with anyone before.”
I recognize the voice as the waitress who brought us our beers.
“He said he didn’t call me because I slept with three of the guys he works with. If he finds out I’ve slept with five of them, I’m screwed. I want that one Amy, oh my god why does he have to be such a fucking tease.”
I begin to dry my hands off, thinking about her comment regarding that she has slept with five of them. Does that mean Ryder too?
If it was before me, it’s none of my business.
I turn around, throwing the paper in the trashcan before the waitress recognizes me, but I’m too late. She comes to a halt about five feet away. I don’t like wasting my time or breath speaking to bitches such as this. But I can’t help but dig the hole a little deeper for her since she’s obviously a lying whore. So I straighten my spine and confront her directly.
“It’s called the clap.”
Her head swings back, and her face sours.
“Excuse me?”
“The clap. It’s why he won’t sleep with you. They have regular health checks at Callaghan Securities, you could cost him his job,” I say, deadpan.
I can see the red start to overtake her neck. I probably would’ve noticed it sooner if it weren’t for the seven layers of makeup on her face.
“You fucking bitch, I do not have the clap!”
I pay her no mind and walk around her, reaching for the handle of the door. Once it’s firmly grasped in my hand I turn my head giving her a quick but thorough head to toe. I shake my head before regaining eye contact.
“I’m not into pussy sweetheart, so you’re telling that to the wrong person.”
I don’t give her another glance as I walk out the door, smirk on my face.
Dumb bitches.
I do a slight weave around a few drunk and dancing patrons before tilting my head back up, looking toward our table. There are three new men seated with Denny at the large booth that seats six. All are big, boisterous and a little rowdy, if I can judge by the loud voices coming from that direction.
I walk slowly, not liking the thought of meeting other men. Denny notices me and waves a hand, gesturing me forward. The men look slightly familiar, and as I get closer I recognize them as the men Ryder had at his bonfire and the same men he was jogging with all those months ago.
Feeling a little more comfortable, I reach the table and go to take my seat. Denny wastes no time in making introductions as I assess the new men around me.
“Elle, this is Finn, Hunter and Cabe.”
I give a small salute to the men and let out a small reassuring breath. I don’t see these men as a threat. Denny is obviously close to them and that’s enough for me. I give him a small smile letting him know that I’m not offended by the company. But I don’t have much desire to engage with them. He motions to two of the younger men on my bench.
“I’m pretty sure you heard me talk about two of them earlier. Cabe’s not a bad guy though.”
This prompts the tall, tanned and brown haired Hunter to speak up.
“Fuck you, dickhead.”
He follows this statement by throwing one of my fries at Denny.
“Let me guess, Shawna’s working tonight?” the other man named Finn asks. He’s almost identical in looks to Hunter.
I’m guessing they are brothers. They both look to be in their late twenties, both with dark hair, blue eyes and built more like quarterbacks than linebackers.
Denny nods his head.
“You’d guess right.”
Finn pipes up again.
“What? I haven’t seen her yet. Where is the hooker? I haven’t had her in a while.”
I polish off the rest of my beer and answer the question. Not just for Finn, but for the table.
“I told the hooker, that Denny wouldn’t sleep with her because she had the clap. So if you’re looking, she’s probably in the bathroom checking her twat to see if it’s just a rumor.”
The man I now know as Cabe lets out a laugh. He’s an attractive man. There’s definitely a bit of Mexican or Latino in him. He’s darker than Ryder, not quite as beautiful but not hard to look at.
“I told you sorry bastards you’d catch something. That why you’ve been itching your balls all week, Hunter?” Cabe asks.
“Fuck you, Rodriguez,” replies Hunter.
Denny cuts off the banter.
“Alright, enough. Everyone, this is Elle, who I was having beers with until you useless shits interrupted. Pipe down or move the fuck on.”
Hollers and profanity are exchanged before I butt in.
“Actually Denny, I’m going to get that taxi. I’m sure my dog needs out by now.”
I look at my watch and see it’s just after midnight.
“Who’s on call tonight?” asks Denny.
Cabe answers. “I am, these shits couldn’t stay sober long enough.”
“Alright man I need a ride, so does Elle. You cool with that or do you want to sit here with the kids?”
Cabe moves to get out of the booth.
“Black suburban, brother. Parked out front.”
That’s all the answer Denny needs before shuffling us out of the booth.
“Try to keep your head out of the toilet fella’s,” I say with a small wave over my shoulder.
I get a few waves back and make my way toward the exit. Tonight was good, and in all honesty I could’ve drunk more. But I’m thinking it’s better to leave it where it is and get home. That was technically my first night out drinking, socially, with someone who’s an almost friend.
Denny opens the back door and I get in. He closes it for me and climbs into the front seat with Cabe, all of us buckling up before hitting the road.
“I can bring you back to get your truck tomorrow morning if you want, Elle.”
I pull my eyes away from the gadgets adorning the dash of the suburban and look at Denny.
“Thanks, just shoot me a text. If I’m not awake yet I’ll just get a taxi to bring me back in.”
I move my eyes back to the dash and all its buttons, which aren’t standard in most vehicles.
“Do you have all this fancy gadgetry in your suburban too, Denny?”
He turns his head to look at me in the back seat.
“Nah, just Cabe and Finn. He’s the tech guru of the group, and Finn helps when he’s not buried in whiskey and women.”
I gathered that, noting immediately that Finn and Hunter seemed like the younger, wilder of the bunch tonight. Cabe and Denny seem to be about Ryder’s age, in their late thirties. The other two? I’m guessing late twenties.
I roll all this over in my mind and lean forward between the two front seats to speak, mostly addressing Cabe.
“None of you asked who I was tonight, or looked surprised to meet me. Seeing as Denny didn’t have a lot of time to talk about me before I got back from the washroom, that tells me you must have been the tech man who not only located my SUV in Indianapolis, but also continued to send my location to Ryder?”
Cabe visibly stiffens and curls his hands around the steering wheel. I understand what position I just put him in; Ryder is his boss. His loyalty is to him, not me.
I didn’t mean to ask him to be rude; perhaps the beer has made me a little more braz
en. But I’d like to think I’d ask him regardless. I like to know who has their nose in my business and how much they know about me.
Cabe makes eye contact with me in the rear view mirror, and I dare him with my own to lie about it. He remains silent.
“Your lack of response is all the answer I need.”
I sit back in my seat and look out the window.
“Ms. Davidson I-”
“Don’t Cabe. And don’t ‘Ms. Davidson’ me please. It’s Elle, and you were following orders from your boss. Not your fault, and also not your problem. Forget I asked.”
Cabe solemnly nods his head.
“The GPS notifications were deactivated, Elle.”
“I know, he told me.”
The rest of the drive is silent. I could feel guilty for ruining the moment but I don’t, mostly because I rarely feel much of anything at all. Before long, we pull onto my lane. I don’t bother asking how he knew where I lived, seeing as I already know the answer. I look to the west and notice Ryder’s truck in his driveway. The lights are still on in his house. I look at the clock on the dash and see it’s almost one in the morning.
Not forgetting my manners, I thank Cabe for the ride and unbuckle my seatbelt when he puts the suburban in park.
“Anytime, Elle.”
Denny opens his door and hops out of the truck.
“I’ll walk you to your door, darlin’.”
I give a small wave over my shoulder at Cabe, and make my way toward the front steps of my house. I do a quick sweep of the perimeter and ascend the steps to my porch. I’m not two steps up before I notice the shadow of a man sitting on my deck.
“Jesus!”
I put my hand to my chest and feel Denny rush past me, taking the four steps two at a time until he comes face to face with Ryder. He throws his hands in the air and angrily runs them through his hair.
“What the fuck boss, you scared the woman half to death.”
I take in two deep breaths and quickly realize that in my panic I’d reached in my purse for my gun. It’s not pointed at anyone, but is mostly pulled out of my purse and in my hand. I know they both saw it, but I really don’t give a shit right now. I shake off the fear, that stiffness that enters your body when you’re scared to shit that someone was about to kill you.
“Ryder, I told you once, and I shouldn’t have to tell you again. Unless you want a goddamn bullet in your body, don’t fucking surprise me like that!”
I hear Norma barking and don’t waste another minute before climbing the rest of the steps, crossing the small front porch and storming into my house.
I left most of the lights on; a habit to make people think someone was still home. The stereo is still on, playing some old rock music. I give Norm a quick scratch and head toward the fridge in the kitchen.
I grab a bottle of vino and rocks glass, because I’m classy like that. I hear Ryder yelling at Denny though the front screen door, not that the old main door would’ve blocked the noise. He’s arguing with him about priorities, and women, and a small speech about ‘his woman’. I just had my first what most would consider a ‘normal’ night out. I didn’t have a panic attack, I didn’t freak the fuck out, and most importantly it’s Denny who I have to thank for that.
I don’t walk toward the door, I don’t yell. But I speak firm and loud enough they can both hear me.
“Ryder, is he on the job right now?”
Angry eyes stare back at mine through the screen.
“No, he’s not.”
I top up my rocks glass with wine at the island, not taking my eyes from his.
“Then what that man does or who he has drinks with is not your business right now. So instead of scolding him, thank him, and Cabe too, for making sure I got home safely.”
I grab my wine off the bar, and head out the back door to my lounge. My girl comes with me, happy that I’m home and eager for some attention.
* * *
I’ve settled in and enjoyed the silence for about ten minutes now. I’m lighting up a smoke when three male bodies come out my back door.
“Elle, we need to talk.”
Not the words any woman wants to hear. I take in the abundance of testosterone invading my space. They’re all like Rambo in street clothes (minus the bandana). On another day I might have a fantasy about this but right now I can sense the mood is going to become even more serious than it was when I almost shot my neighbor.
“If you want to argue Ryder, go home. If you want to talk, then just speak. I’m tired and was planning on heading straight to bed when I got home. Not nearly killing someone.”
Ryder shows his telltale sign he’s frustrated and scrubs his hands over his face before sitting down at the foot of the lounge. Cabe moves to lean against the railing and Denny moves toward the table on the other side of the deck.
“It might not be a good talk, Elle.”
I look up from my drink at Ryder’s solemn eyes.
“Then you better grab the rest of my wine, and if they’re staying for this conversation then get the boys a beer.”
Ryder reaches out and squeezes my leg gently before heading into the house, coming out seconds later with refreshments. He sits back down and reaches for my pack of smokes, lighting one up before he starts to speak.
“They both know, Elle.”
I contemplate his words for a moment. Not sure exactly what it is he is talking about.
“They both know we spent some time together? They both know we fucked? What exactly do they know Ryder?”
He takes a long pull of his beer. I notice he brought two out for himself.
“No beautiful, they know. Not everything, but some shit. I needed help when you took off, these two were my help.”
I look up at Ryder’s face and realize he’s not joking. He told my life to some guys, who may be good guys, but none the less guys I don’t know. I’m sure he can tell I’m prepared to lose my shit because he quickly tries to calm my raging thoughts.
“Hear me out babe. I was fucking lost for clues when you left. I couldn’t find you on my own, which is not something I’m proud of considering what I do for a living. The bottom line is I needed help, Elle. These are my men and they helped me find you.”
I glance over at Denny and Cabe, and notice they both look uncomfortable. I’m not concerned about Cabe, I want to know how much Denny knows. We’ve only worked out together a few times, but for him to know anything about me and not let me know, for him to continue on like we were strangers would piss me the fuck off. I need to know so I waste no time in asking.
“How much Denny? How much did he tell you about me? How much did you know?”
Denny straightens up from leaning against the table and looks to Ryder.
“Ryder, don’t do that man.”
He shakes his head slightly at him before looking at me.
“All I know darlin’ is that Ryder was trying to find a woman named ‘Elle Davidson’. I couldn’t find shit; tech crap is not my gig. So when Cabe returned from a job, Ryder got him to tap your bank records and locate your truck. When Brock called me, I put two and two together after he mentioned Callaghan. Long story short I said I’d train with you and pick up where Brock left off. Aside from that I was only given the information that you might be in trouble, and to look out for you. I don’t know shit about you Elle, and I haven’t asked. That’s your business darlin’, and not anyone else’s unless you choose to share it with them.”
His last comment is directed toward Cabe and Ryder. Cabe visibly flinches and Ryder picks up where Denny left off.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not Elle. I told you I’d help you, and in order for me to do that I needed help. Cabe is my best tech guy, and Denny is good muscle. I knew you were training with him, I just didn’t expect you to show up at home so late with the two of them.”
I take a long hard look at the men around me. I hate secrets. I have a lot of them, but they are mine to share. I didn’t like when Ryder spoke for me at Broc
k’s gym, and I don’t like that he kept from me exactly how much he knew and who he chose to share it with.
“Enlighten me Ryder, how much have you shared with Cabe? And how much has he figured out on his own? Because if he’s avidly typing my goddamn name into a search engine, you could be putting my life at more risk than it already was to begin with. Do you realize that?”
