Concealed Affliction (14 page)

I give him a small, pathetic smirk before returning to the bottle.

I’m good at that
.

Denny’s wide torso leans forward and he rests his forearms on the table, leaning in closer as the music has gotten a little louder.

“Chicken caesar or a burger? It’s the only shit that’s worth eating here at this time of night, and I’m starving.”

Trying to lighten the mood, I crack a joke.

“Damn Denny, had I have known you were going to invite me to dinner I would’ve dressed my best, and maybe put in a little more effort than a ten minute scrub.”

This earns me a big toothy grin, and his teeth are perfect.

“Ten minute or five minute darlin’, I think you’re the cleanest woman in this hole.”

I return the grin.

“Or you could rephrase that, after your description of the women earlier I think I could accurately describe myself as the cleanest ‘hole’. And I’ll take a burger.”

This earns me another deep belly laugh before he flags down a younger girl cleaning tables. I’m assuming there’s no dress code since she’s casually dressed in black pants and a short sleeve black top (tits completely covered).

“Hey sweetheart, can we get two burgers.”

The sweet younger girl pulls a pad out of her apron. I’m guessing she’s maybe eighteen. Cute, long brown hair and very petite.

“Sure. Everything on them?”

Denny nods his head and gestures toward me.

“Everything but onions, and a side of gravy for the fries please.”

She nods and scurries her little body back through the kitchen door.

“She seems a little young to be working in here.”

“Ya, her father was the owner. He died on a mission overseas. She and her mother mostly look after the place. Callaghan knows them; he introduced us to this place. The regular waitresses are shit, but so long as the family running the place keeps the doors open, food will be on the tables.”

I lose myself in thought for a moment, knowing exactly how that young girl feels, losing someone so close to you.

“Want another?”

Denny’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

I eye my now two empty beer bottles on the table, knowing if I drink much more I won’t be able to drive home.

“I do, but first I need to ask how hard it’ll be to get a taxi back home?”

“They won’t get busy until after one in the morning around here. They’ll also mostly do town runs.”

“I take it you’ve had to use the service a time or two? Brock said you guys were most likely on a bender while you were off for the week. Do you all live around here?”

“No. Ryder is the farthest. I actually rented a place between here and there. About ten minutes out.”

That means he’s not even ten minutes from the little cove that Ryder and I live in.

“Well then, bring on the beer. Taxi it is.”

Chapter Twelve

“I’m impressed, didn’t expect you to pack back that plate, Elle.”

I wipe off the leftover gravy, and whatever else accumulated on my face on my napkin.

“I’m not about the salad, Denny Black.”

I’m about six beers in now. I’m not drunk, but definitely feeling good. I feel safe having a few, or many beers in public with Denny. I know already he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

“Not salad?”

I shake my head in mock exasperation before continuing.

“Nope. How many women have you had to dinner who only ordered salad?”

Denny pauses to think for a moment.

“A lot,” he says so seriously I can’t help but laugh a bit, mostly due to the beer.

“Ha! Yes, and then she goes home and gorges on potato chips and ice cream, trying to make up for the lack of protein and carbohydrates in her meal. I’m not salad. I like it, but I’d rather just eat what I want to eat and not give two fucks what you think about me while I do it.”

Blue eyes stare back at mine.

One,

Two,

Three.

“You’re not salad.”

He gets it.

“I need to hit the lady’s.”

Denny sits, slightly stunned. Suddenly realizing that perhaps his previous encounters with women all failed because they couldn’t bring themselves to simply be themselves on a date. Not that I think Denny really dates, but I’m sure he doesn’t go home to a cold bed every night.

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?”