Concealed Affliction

by Harlow Stone

  If I could have a wish come true,

  I would wish my sweet Lilly, that I still had you.

  May you be happy with your dad baby girl, never sad or blue.

  Until the day I get to heaven, and make my own debut.

  Love, Momma.

  I don’t bother to try stopping the sobs that wrack my body; I know it would be an impossible feat. After spending so long trying to be the strong one, bottling up all of my emotions and running my life on auto pilot, it has finally reached its breaking point.

  I have reached my breaking point.

  I don’t bother to turn around and guess whose arms have come around me. For once instead of fighting and pushing people away, I fold myself into the warm embrace and let it all go. The anger, the tears and the deeply rooted loneliness I refuse to give into.

  I don’t know how long Denny holds me in his lap on the cold ground, but eventually he breaks the silence when my sobs and ugly crying subside to small whimpers. I feel the tightening of his arms before he speaks.

  “What do you want, Foley?”

  I’m confused and disoriented. I pull my head out from under Denny’s chin and notice the man standing about fifteen feet away. Denny obviously feels no threat from this man, but regardless I crawl out of his lap and stand on my own two feet. Denny doesn’t let me get far and stands partially in front of me, blocking my clear path to the strange man.

  “Mr. Black. Perhaps we don’t need to worry about her and Callaghan any longer, seeing how close you and Ms. O’Connor have become.”

  I jolt at the use of my real name and get a better look at the man in front of me. He takes a few more steps forward and recognition hits. This is the guy who was with Becker, the one who waited outside of my private training room back in Jacksonville.

  “I’ll ask you again, what the fuck do you want Foley?”

  The man known as Foley shoves his hands in his pockets, shaking his head with a mild smirk on his older wrinkly face.

  “It’s not what I want, Mr. Black. It’s what works best for all parties involved. I couldn’t very well take Mr. Callaghan’s word for it now could I? Certainly not without an insurance policy of my own.”

  I grab onto Denny’s arm.

  “What the hell is he talking about?”

  I look between the two men, watching the standoff unfold in front of me, more confused than ever as to why William Becker’s right hand man from Chicago is standing in the middle of a cemetery in Ontario.

  Denny doesn’t answer me, but holds onto my arm and begins to lead us back the way we came as he speaks over his shoulder.

  “Not up for yours or Becker’s games. Get the fuck back to Chicago. If you don’t, we both know what’ll happen.”

  Denny and I climb over the concrete wall and almost make it to the truck before I see the flashing lights coming in the distance.

  “As I said, Mr. Black. Insurance.”

  I spin out of Denny’s hold to face the prick coming up behind me. His pace is confident and the smug look on his face conveys his message.

  “What do you want with me? I have no hold over Ryder! Leave me the fuck alone!”

  Foley shows no emotion, no remorse at my outburst. Simply cocks his head to the side wondering what my game is.

  “No hard feelings, Ms. O’Connor. Mr. Becker trusted you would stay out of Ryder Callaghan’s reach. This is just a precaution to ensure he stays out of yours.”

  “What fucking ‘precaution’?”

  I don’t know why I’m asking, I hear the sirens getting closer.

  “My apologies, but you serve our cause best behind bars at the moment.”

  Denny bursts in front of me, storming for the smug prick and grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket.

  “You stupid son of a bitch! You think this will stop him! You think you’re going to win? Huh? You might as well tell Becker his time as a mayor is fucking finished!”

  He shoves off of him and comes back toward me.

  “Get in the fucking truck Elle! I’ll get you out of here.”

  I don’t move. I just stand frozen to the spot, wondering how the hell what started out as finding a killer has turned into such an act of vengeance. All because Becker wants Ryder? I don’t get it.

  “MOVE, ELLE!”

  I move toward the truck, but not to get in. I place my hand on Denny’s arm, squeezing a bit to get his eyes to focus on mine.

  “It was coming sooner or later. I’ll be alright.”

  My voice holds no hope, or sadness. It’s just monotone as I watch a police cruiser come to a stop at the entrance to the cemetery. I’m not afraid, I’m not worried. I knew I’d have questions to answer sooner or later. My only hope was that we caught Shawn first so he could fill in some of the blanks, and I could rest easier at night.

  I lean up on my toes, ignoring the sound of footsteps heading my way, ignoring the selfish prick named Foley, and not paying any attention to the look of anger and despair on Denny’s handsome face. I lightly kiss his cheek and wrap my arm around his neck while speaking softly so only he can hear.

  “I put thirty thousand in the safe at Jimmy’s. If you guys need it, use it.”

  His giant arms embrace me back and he too speaks low enough that only I can hear.

  “Don’t need it girl, and we’ll get him. I promise you that. One of us will be waiting for you at the station. We’ll send in a lawyer.”

  I nod and give him one last squeeze before letting go and not looking back. The footsteps have long since stopped and I see Bryan Miller standing about twenty feet from me, kind enough to give me space and sweet enough to give me time to say goodbye.

  His eyes roam over my body, my dark brown hair, my new face. It’s been a long time since I last saw him, and as much as I wish it were under different circumstances, he still is a friendly face—even though he’s here to take me in.

  I study the man I haven’t seen in a year. He’s tall, around the six-foot mark. Chestnut colored hair and deep brown eyes. A slight scruff on his jaw, but still clean enough to warrant that sophisticated all business persona. I don’t waste any more time and walk toward him, hands at my sides.

  “How does this work? Do you read me my rights, cuff me and throw me in the back seat of your car?”

  I tilt my head to the side in question and I don’t miss the small flash of desire in his eyes before he masks it behind empathy.

  “I heard the call come in of your whereabouts. I wanted to take it myself. Not because I want to bring you in, but because I didn’t want you to be treated that way.”

  Bryan Miller.

  He always was the one with the soft heart toward me.

  “How about we just start with walking side by side to my car. Unless you want a head start?” he asks while quirking an eyebrow at me. I solemnly shake my head.

  “I told you I was done running. Not that I was ready to come in yet, but something tells me it’s time.”

  He reaches his hand out and gently holds onto my arm while guiding me toward his black undercover police cruiser.

  “As much as I hoped this was over for you Jayne, it’s good to see you alive and seemingly well.”

  “Seemingly is accurate, but I’m far from well Bryan.”

  The caress of his thumb against my arm is his answer before he opens the door to his cruiser and guides me into the back seat. He motions toward the camera on the dash, and I nod in understanding and keep my mouth shut.

  He gets in the front seat of the car and we make the journey toward the station. I look over my shoulder and watch the cemetery fade into the distance. It could be the last time I ever got to see my family in their resting place. It could be the last time I see my dog and the new friends I have made.

  Knowing there is one more person I need to see before I potentially become a prison inmate, I remind myself to speak to Miller once we’re out of the camera’s view.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  We pull into the small police station and
Miller helps me out of the car. He still didn’t put cuffs on me, thank god. Not that it really matters, but I fear having flashbacks to when I was kept prisoner in the basement.

  “Bryan?” I softly ask, so as to not attract attention from any other potential police officers in the lot.

  “Miller from here on out, Jay.”

  I nod in understanding.

  “I need you to call Laura, as soon as you can and let her know I’m here. Please. I didn’t get to see her yet.”

  “I’m going to take you in and put you in a secure room. I’m sorry, it’s procedure. I’ll grab us a coffee and call her once I get you in there.”

  “Thank you.”

  Feeling somewhat better, I let him guide me into the station. We pass through the double glass doors, drawing little attention seeing as it’s like a funeral in here. One tired looking woman behind the desk filing her nails at ten thirty on a week night. A few officers hunched over paperwork on their desks. All in all it’s a quiet night in a small town.

  Miller leads me through a secure door past reception which enters into a large room with about ten desks. The left side of the room has a few offices and from here I can see Miller’s name on the door of one of them.

  “Congratulations,” I mutter, pointing my head in that direction.

  He gives me a small smile and a quiet thank you before guiding me into a room on the right side. There’s a window facing the main room with blinds and there’s also a window on the inside which is clearly a one way mirror. I sit down in a plastic chair in front of the cold metal table and Miller tells me to wait for his return.

  I’m only left staring at the cold grey walls for a few moments before Miller comes back with a coffee and leans against the table.

  “The cameras in here are not on, and there is no one on the other side of the glass. I called Laura and I’m going to put off calling Braumer until the morning.

  “You need a Lawyer here, Jayne. I know you’ll ask for one. Braumer wants in on the questioning and I can’t shelter you from that. If you think you can get a lawyer here tonight, then I’ll call him. If not, I need to keep you until morning when you can do that.”

  “I don’t know when I can get one here, but I know one is coming. How about that one phone call? Then I’m guessing I’ll go hang out in one of those fancy rooms with bars in them?”

  Clearly finding no humor in my tone, Miller stands up and guides me out of the room toward a phone. Ryder might be the best one to call at this moment. However, after what happened with Foley, I want nothing to do with him. I pick up the phone and dial Denny instead, knowing he’ll most likely know what’s going on.

  “Black.”

  “Hey. What time for the lawyer?”

  “He lands in Toronto at zero six hundred. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. You could just call a Lawyer around here. I have the money Denny, I just haven’t needed to use one before so I have no idea who’s good.”

  “Don’t worry about it darlin’, worry about you right now. And this guy is the best, so I’d suggest you wait for him.”

  “Thanks, Denny. I’m here for the night and I’m guessing they don’t allow visitors. So, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Hang in there.”

  I hang up the phone and continue with Miller down the hallway. It comes to a T, on one side is a door with a pass code lock, and on the other is a set of stairs, leading down. I slow my steps, not because I mean to but because I can’t help it. I feel my breathing getting shallower and the sweat begins to form on my face and neck.

  “What’s wrong, Jayne?”

  I shake my head frantically back and forth, my unruly brown hair getting stuck to my sweaty face in the process. I know my words will come out jumbled but I do my best to try. I focus on the confusion in his eyes, letting him see the fear in mine before I speak so quietly I can barely hear myself.

  “Basement.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders and puts his face level with mine.

  “It’s mostly case files and storage. Breathe Jayne. There’s one old cell down there but it hasn’t been used in years, and I’m not taking you there. Breathe.”

  I focus on his face, breathing. In an effort to get away from the stairs I push us toward the door. He quickly enters the pass code before getting us to the other side.

  I lean against the wall, gathering my breath, deep in through the nose, out through the mouth. I repeat a few times until I no longer feel like death is looming and begin to walk down the hallway.

  We come across a desk, which is empty, and another door with a pass code which is currently hanging open. I follow Miller through the open door and finally see the two holding cells. They aren’t as big as what I’ve seen on television, probably because this is such a small town. Still, there are two. One has a double bunk, nothing to write home about. And the other has benches along two of the walls. I’m assuming the difference is people are only held here for an hour, versus people who are kept overnight.

  He walks me to the one with the double bunk and I make my way over to the lower bed, sitting down with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I knew I’d get here eventually, I’m not upset. Maybe I’m just a little overwhelmed after seeing those stairs leading below.

  I feel the warmth of Bryan’s hand on my shoulder and look up.

  “I’m truly fucking sorry Jayne. But I’m still glad it was me that brought you in here and not someone else, especially Braumer.”

  I nod my head, thankful too for the same thing and manage a small smile.

  “The cameras are off when nobody is in here, but I have to switch it back on when I go out. Before I do that, is there anything you want to tell me? Or any info you want to share? Maybe who those guys were when I showed up at the cemetery tonight?”

  I lean my head back on my shoulders, staring up at the only man in this department who could potentially help me. I don’t want to tell him too much, mainly because I think Ryder and his team have more pull than he does. In fact, I know they have more pull, but he still deserves a little bit of information for all he has done for me.

  “The older man was not my friend. He’s the one who orchestrated this arrest, not for the greater good, but a personal vendetta against me. I can’t tell you why, because ultimately it doesn’t pertain to why I’m here tonight.

  “The other man is a close friend and someone I trust. Let’s just say he and his friends protect me and work for a company called Callaghan Security.”

  He nods his head, motioning for me to continue.

  “They’re good people, should you come in contact with them Bryan. They’re intelligent and they’ll help you with the case. Most of them are ex-military personnel or something similar and they do their jobs well. I’m sure they won’t get in your way but please don’t stop them, or tell Braumer about them. If they want Braumer to know they’re here to help me, then that will be up to them. In the meantime, consider them an ally, not a threat.

  “Should you encounter the man you saw at the cemetery, Foley something or other, or another man named William Becker, be sure to let whatever they say go in one ear and out the other. They aren’t good people.”

  “Becker? Why does that sound familiar?”

  “You follow American politics?”

  He nods his head. “A little, why?”

  “Because he’s the Mayor of Chicago.”

  Wide eyes greet my serious ones.

  “I’m not lying, Bryan. That man is fucking evil. Avoid him and his cronies if you can help it. However, I’m sure he and Braumer would get along great over a single malt and a few cigars. They both share a mutual dislike for yours truly.”

  “I don’t think you’re lying, Jay. Jesus, what the fuck happened since you left here?”

  “Too much, and not enough.”

  Bryan paces the cell for a few moments, lost in thought. I barely told him anything, but to him I’m sure it’s a lot. I didn’t tell him what I found out about Sha
wn because at this point I don’t think it’ll help. If Ryder and the guys choose to share that, it’ll be up to them.

  I move to lay down on the board they call a mattress, knowing I need at least a few hours of sleep before I face the evil prick known as Braumer in the morning.

  “A guard will come down soon to man the desk. If you need anything, let him know. Or if you need to speak with me again, I’ll let him know to take it seriously and send me back here.”

  I give him a small salute in acknowledgement before I roll my back to the wall, curling up with the pillow. I don’t like it in here and I refuse to sleep without seeing who’s coming in and out of this room.