Masked Definitions (10 page)

“She does more than me. I go because she likes it.”

“Huh.” Elijah’s brow quirks. “Interesting.”

“What?” Max’s tone has changed; it’s guarded. I continue to stare out of the window, my stomach rolling now that we’re nearing the edge of the city.

“It’s just usually the other way around. What do you like about fishing, Olivia?”

“The calm,” I respond automatically.

“My girl is a dreamer. She doesn’t talk much, forever in her own head.” Max’s fingers tickle my neck and my lips curve upwards at his warm words.

“Do you like to read?”

I shrug. “Not as much as I like to listen to music.”

“She does,” Max puts in again, leaning his head over my shoulder. I’m annoyed that his seatbelt isn’t on. “She’ll plug her earphones in and be gone for a while.”

“I like music,” I say and turn to give my husband a look. He rolls his eyes but immediately knows what I’m silently ordering him to do. Unfortunately, turning to look backwards really unsettles me and I have to whip back around and close my eyes.

I hate feeling nauseous, that slight suspension in time where you’re on the verge of vomiting though not quite. Your stomach roils and your mouth salivates but you convince yourself you can hold out for a few more minutes.

I remain like this, eyes closed, hands clutching the seat belts as we drive through the countryside, over roads that are smooth and then roads that bounce.

“Is she okay?” I hear Elijah ask twice. It sounds distant. I’m effectively separating myself from the situation.

I know how stupid it must sound, a professional pole dancer getting motion sickness. I can’t explain it; it’s just one of those things.

“She’ll be fine.” Max responded twice, sounding disinterested. God forbid he should actually make an effort when I’m ill.

We seem to have been driving for hours when we finally pull over, the journey unknown to me as I kept my eyes closed for the entirety of it. We’re on a gravel driveway leading to a cute house.

It looks like it hasn’t been lived in for a while. It’s not unkempt from the outside; I just get this empty vibe from it.

Suddenly I’m a psychic
, I think to myself sardonically.

“I can hear the river,” I say, smiling. It does little to help my nausea as I climb from the car. My legs wobble. I don’t feel great at all.

Max moves straight to the boot and opens it as I stare at the side of the house. The trees around us stretch on forever but I know the river is nearby. I can smell it, hear it, basically feel its energy.

A hand touches my elbow. I look away from the trees and up into the warm silver eyes of the man who I’m being a whore for. I wonder if he would still look at me with such tenderness if he knew what kind of a person I am.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, dipping his head. “You look… pasty.”

“Motion sickness,” I explain, pulling my elbow free sharply. He looks at his empty hand with a frown marring his handsome features before his eyes come back to mine, all warmth gone. I shouldn’t be so harsh but I can’t be bothered with the fallout from Max if he thinks his brother is attracted to me. Max is
that
kind of paranoid. “I’ll be fine.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Speak of the devil… Max peeks around the car.

“Olivia is unwell,” Elijah tells him and I smirk to myself, knowing that Max won’t give a hoot.

“She’ll be fine, won’t you, Liv?” He winks at me and looks at his brother for a moment before disappearing from our line of sight. “Are you going to help me with this shit or what?”

“I’ll be there in a second,” Elijah says, frowning deeper but for different reasons this time. I’m good at reading people but I’m not psychic. I don’t know what his frown is for but I’m guessing it’s about the fact that Max can be a bit of a prick.

He gives me one more sweep over with his eyes before moving to the back of the car. 

They emerge with three cases and a cooler box. I’m not the greatest fisher in the world. I don’t understand most things. All I know is how to load the bait onto the hook and how to reel a fish in, not that I’ve caught many.

I just like being outdoors. I love the smell of the water and the air. I love the quiet, the calming tranquillity of it all.

“It’s beautiful here,” I comment mostly to myself. Max and Elijah are lost in their own hushed conversation.

It’s nice to see them bonding, though something just doesn’t feel right. My instincts are usually spot on too. Not about today, just about this situation as a whole. I don’t feel as though Elijah’s reasons for bonding with Max are pure. I’m not even entirely sure that he likes him, but I don’t understand why he’d come forward otherwise. It must be some kind of brotherly love or obligation. Elijah has money and power, money that could very well be Max’s too now that we know who his father is for certain.

I sigh outwardly and shake my head to relieve the pressure building in my skull. I overthink things too much sometimes.

“So she jumped, just like that. It was amazing.” Max is telling him the story of when we did a bungee jump for charity two years ago to raise money for people with mental illnesses. Or for research.

I forget.

“I didn’t jump.” I roll my eyes to Elijah and raise my chin a little. My lips curve into a smile and my eyes narrow with pride. “I flew, arms out to the sides.”

“She didn’t even scream.”

“I wanted to hear the wind as I plummeted to my death.”

Elijah grins and shakes his head. “You sound wild.”

“Perhaps,” Enna responds for me and I have to stop myself from clasping my hand over my mouth.

Elijah noticed it too because yet again his head tilts slightly and his eyes narrow with remembrance.

“So,” I clear my throat and point to the gap between the house and the trees. “Are we going fishing or not?”

Penelope
:
I sincerely apologise for my abrupt exit this morning. I hope you’ll forgive me and allow me to make it up to you.

I stare at the message.

“How you type on that thing, I have no idea.” Elijah comments. I look at him relaxing on a sun lounger. He’s wearing a cap that is pulled down at the front, hiding his eyes from view. I thought he was asleep.

Max is asleep beside me on his sun lounger and I’m sitting on the grass by the end of it making daisy chains. It’s childish, I know, but I love it. It makes me nostalgic for my youth. Our fishing rods are all propped up not too far away, though we’ve been sat here three hours and have yet to catch even a nibble.

“I don’t know how you type on one of those.” I point to his flat, shiny phone resting in the cup holder in the arm of his lounger.

He pulls his cap off and runs his hands through his hair. Sitting up, he spreads his legs to either side of the long seat and looks over the lake. “Have you never had a smart phone?”

“The only piece of technology I own besides a microwave is my crappy ten quid MP3 player. I love it though. It stores so much music.” I pull the tiny rectangular device from my pocket. “But up until a year ago I only owned a portable CD player.”

“Christ, it’s like being back in two thousand and four.” He grins and holds out his hand for my beloved device. I hesitate, scared he might break it and lose me all of my precious music. “I like that. Too many people are so ignorant to things because of technology.”

“I must be simple.”

“I highly doubt that.” His mutter is so low I almost don’t hear him. His icy grey eyes come to mine, piercing me with a look so curious I almost want to shrink away. I feel as though he’s assessing every part of me, soul included. “May I listen?”

I’m so focused on the way he’s looking at me that it takes me a second to register his question. I almost say no, purely because I feel as though sharing my music with him truly will give him an intimate look into my soul and darkest desires. Will my playlist reflect how badly I want him? Will it show him my dreams? My visions?

I know I’m insane but I can’t help it. The thrill of just how wrong this all is calls to Enna. She’s my dominant side and she rarely loses to Olivia, my sweeter side.

“Sure,” I agree, though my teeth sink into my lip.

He unravels the earphones and hooks them over his ears before pressing the buttons on the front and relaxing back on his lounger.

I want to talk to him some more. I don’t want him to close his eyes as he listens. I don’t want to see his fingers tap against his leg to whatever beat is playing.

I want to sit beside him and listen with him.

I want to pull up his t-shirt and trace his chest and abs with the tips of my fingers as Chase Holfelder’s ‘Major to Minor’ album plays song after song. His haunting melodies can really set the tone for a powerful yet grievous, taboo fuck or something far more sinister. I’m voting for the former. My mind is plagued by nothing but the former. I ache so badly.

“It’s cold,” Max complains, startling me. His frown is evident. Did he catch me staring at his brother?

There’s a sentence I never thought I’d think or say.

What is wrong with me?

“Put your coat on then.” I point to it crumpled on the ground just behind me. As I do, I hear a reel begin to spin. Max and I both jump up and grab my rod. When he sees that I have it, he leaves me to it and frowns at his unmoving line. “You’re going to get wrinkles.” I pull the fish in and then release, letting the line slip a bit. I repeat this movement whenever the fish begins to tug. At least I hope it’s a fish and not a piece of rotting wood or an old umbrella, two things I’ve hooked in the past.

“Sorry.” Elijah appears beside me as I reel in my catch. I finally see it break the surface of the water and no small amount of excitement floods through me when I see shiny grey scales and a flash of white. “I lost myself. You have some interesting music on your MP3.”

I keep my eyes on my prize but my smile is for my brother in law. “That’s a polite way of saying I listen to weird shit.”

He chokes on a laugh. “I don’t think that at all. You seem very eclectic. I like that. I was raised on classical and the occasional jazz band. Punk rock and all of these minor key music tones are so new to me.”

“You don’t listen to music much?” The fish splashes at the surface.

“I don’t have time to browse for newer bands and I don’t have friends outside of my circle of classical and jazz. Except one, but he’s into the top forty and I just don’t have time for that.” We share a smile over that comment.

“It’s not very big,” Max comments when I finally pull the fish out of the water and plop it onto the grass.

“Are you always so… negative?” Elijah snaps, his tone harsh. It reminds me of how he is at night, when paying for my services.

Max looks at him over his shoulder as he crouches and begins to remove the hook from the inside of the fish’s mouth. “Negative?”

Icy eyes glare at my husband for a long moment. “You can be quite dismissive of your wife and derogatory.”

Oh dear.

“Seriously?” My husband scoffs angrily and stands, forgetting about the fish. “How? In what way? She knows I love her.”

“You always put her down.” I’m surprised that he’s defending me but also annoyed, mostly because I know that Max will probably be sour with me today because of this. “Today she made you tea and you immediately said that it didn’t have enough sugar. You also didn’t thank her at all. In fact… whenever she does anything for you, your first sentence is a complaint.”

I crouch and tend to the fish, making sure to unhook it carefully before picking it up, admiring it for a moment and slipping it back into the water. I don’t even care if they wanted to get pictures of it. The atmosphere of the moment is now ruined.

“Guys,” I snap over their heated debate and they both look my way. “Enough arguing.”

“Where’d the fish go?” Max whines, looking around his feet as if hoping to find it flapping in a different location than where he left it.

“I set it free.”

“Why would you do that? I wanted a picture.”

“It’s a fish, Max. You can get a picture of the next one. Besides, I thought you said it was too small?”

He scowls at me.

Elijah runs his hands through his hair. “Let’s go. I think it’s safe to say this day has taken a turn for the worst.”

“Why?” I blurt, not wanting to leave just yet. “Just apologise to each other and be done with it.”

“I’m far too frustrated.” His attitude and tone confirm this.

“Me too.” Max snatches his rod up and begins to pack it away.

Great. “You two are definitely related,” I grumble, taking my own rod and gathering my things from the grass.

*****

“I apologise for my outburst but I stand by what I said,” Elijah puts in after we pile into the car silently.

“It’s really none of your business,” Max states and he isn’t wrong. I appreciate that Elijah thinks I need protecting, but if it doesn’t bother me then it really is none of his business. Honestly, I rarely notice half of the crap that comes out of Max’s mouth anymore. We’ve been together for so long I tend to switch off to his shit.

“It isn’t? I just worry you might end up saying something that could lose you the woman you love.”

“Is that why your wife hates you?”

Oh for goodness sakes. I want to throttle them both.

“Yes. I suppose it is,” Elijah responds bluntly and an awkward silence fills the car.

“Elijah, if it makes you feel any better…” I begin to say but Max cuts me off by practically yelling in my ear. “She’ll never leave me. I won’t let her.”

“Well that’s healthy.” Elijah’s sarcasm does not go unnoticed.

“Fuck you. You don’t know us well enough to judge us. Liv isn’t complaining.”

Elijah looks at me, his hands on the wheel though the engine has yet to be switched on. I shrink into my seat. He asks, “How do you feel when he puts you down?”

“She feels fine.” Max’s tone is bitter and petulant.

“Let her speak for herself.” Elijah’s tone is demanding and authoritative.

“I know what she’s going to say.”

Elijah narrows his eyes at his younger brother. “Because she’s probably so concerned with upsetting you that she won’t speak her mind.”

“That’s bullshit. My Liv never holds back.” Max reaches forward and tugs on my hair. He’s right, I don’t hold back. “If I piss her off, she’ll tell me.”

Both of them look at me, obviously expecting me to get involved in this ridiculous debate. This is so uncomfortable.

“Can we just go?” I yawn loudly and stretch. “I’m done with this.”

“Olivia,” Elijah says as Max says, “Liv.”

I remain silent and both of them shift in their seats.

It’s not until Elijah puts the car in gear and begins to drive that he mutters under his breath. “Next time I won’t bother.”

This really pisses me off because I didn’t ask for, nor did I
need,
his help. He should never have berated my husband in front of me without speaking to me first anyway, just as I won’t berate him for this in front of Max, nor will I chastise Max for acting like a possessive idiot.

I don’t believe in public dramas. They’re unnecessary and tacky. I especially don’t believe in taking sides.

Did Elijah honestly believe that I’d go against my husband and take his side? Regardless of whether he is right or wrong, that’s not a fair situation to put me or Max in. It made me uncomfortable and it would have hurt Max’s feelings if I’d done that. If he truly cared, his first port of call would have been to come to me in private. Alas, he doesn’t know me well enough for that yet.

“I’ve decided to call him Bernard.” I say with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

“You can’t name a fish Bernard. That’s a stupid name.” Max says and Elijah snorts.

“See? Negativity.”

“Oh fuck you.” Max strops and I want to throw myself from this car.

I’m done with today. Fucking done.

“Lovely language, Max.”

“Liv, fucking help me out here.”

“You are both making me feel extremely uncomfortable,” I say briskly and Elijah clamps his mouth shut. “I’d like to drive the rest of the way home in silence.” My nausea is kicking in already so I try close my eyes and imagine myself elsewhere. In an unmoving vehicle. Without two men with me. When closing my eyes doesn’t work, I opt for responding to Penelope instead.

Olivia
:
You’re forgiven… I don’t blame you at all. Though next time, please don’t abandon me.

Penelope
:
What happened?

Olivia
:
Nothing really. I just would have appreciated the female company.

Penelope
:
I’m truly sorry.

Olivia
:
As am I. I got your clothes a little muddy around the knees.

Penelope
:
It’s honestly fine. Keep them. Take anything from that wardrobe. I won’t be returning there for a while.

I don’t respond because I don’t know what to respond. Enna wants me to pry. Olivia doesn’t.

“What time do you have work tonight?” Elijah asks both of us.

”Nine.” I say as Max replies, “Eight thirty.”

“Should we go to dinner?”

“I’d like to go home,” I respond honestly. “But you two can go do whatever it is you want to do.”

I actually hope they do, purely so they’ll make up.

Max reaches forward and tugs on a lock of my hair again. “Don’t be boring.”

He has to be joking, right? “I’m done for the day, Max.”

Thankfully I receive no argument from him or Elijah. My tone of finality must have sealed the deal.