Inarticulate

by Eden Summers

  The verbal betrayal didn’t cease as he turned off the water and opened the shower door to reach for a towel. Lyrics continued to haunt her, sinking into her brain, never to be forgotten. Bile began mass production, the churning of her belly making her cling to the doorframe for support. As he began drying himself, she inched out of view, numb to the sound of his ringing cell on the bed between them.

  There was no will to move. No voice to scream.

  He padded to the foot of the bed, the towel secured at his hips as he swept up his cell and answered the call.

  “Dominic.” His smooth, effortless address to her cousin sliced through her skin like a razor. He had a voice. He had a smooth, deep, masculine voice that Dominic had known about.

  They had all known, hadn’t they?

  “W-what did you s-say to her?” The accusation in his tone pulled a gasp from her throat. They were talking about her. Discussing what had happened to bring her here.

  Stormy eyes snapped to hers and undiluted panic came face to face with her pure heartbreak. He dropped his cell to the bed as her lips parted and panted breaths escaped without permission. She raised her chin to combat the emotional assault. “Don’t stop on my account.” Her throat constricted. “I’ll go so you can continue your conversation.”

  Hysteria set in, thick and cloying. She lunged for the door, slammed it shut in a vain attempt to stop him chasing her, and then ran.

  Her progression was mindless. Senseless. She couldn’t think past the remembrance of his tone, couldn’t breathe through the humiliation. With every pathetic, mimed word and every text-to-voice, he’d degraded her, making her worthless. Making what they shared meaningless.

  Why? She wanted to scream the word and have it vibrate off the walls.

  Her feet slowed, the questions compiling. Then she heard the sweep of his door, the loud thwack as it ricocheted off the wall, and then his predatory footfalls.

  She took the stairs two at a time. There wasn’t an excuse that could ease her, not one explanation that could settle the nausea. She’d fallen for someone who didn’t exist. A future had been planned with a man she didn’t know.

  “S-s-stop!”

  The violent stutter echoed into the lobby and pulled her up short. Ice shivered down her spine and rooted her feet in place. There was nothing polished or fluid about his speech. It was fractured, split in torturous pieces. Turning wasn’t an option. She couldn’t face him, but yearning took over and her feet swiveled without thought.

  He stood at the top of the stairs, his destructive glare shrinking her. His hands fisted at his sides as water trickled from his hair, down his cheeks. His chest was thrumming, large breaths shaking his shoulders. He opened his mouth and she stiffened, preparing for another knife to embed her chest.

  “Y-y-you w-w-w…” His lips snapped shut. Horror contorted his features, then it morphed, growing into something more volatile, changing into an emotion she couldn’t fathom—anger.

  She stared in fascination, unable to comprehend how he could be the guilty party, yet the one with all the rage.

  “F-fuck y-your p-p-pity.”

  Each word was maimed more than the last, casting aspersions over every day they’d shared.

  “Pity?” She shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t pity you. I despise you,” she spat. “I detest you.” Her lips trembled, her eyes burned. Her world was crumpling at her feet and it was all because of him. He’d created a life that didn’t exist. He’d bathed her in lies and made her fall in love with them. “I’ve been hurt by words before, Keenan. But never have they inflicted as much pain as your silence.”

  They stared each other down, his nostrils flaring, her shoulders holding strong.

  She grieved for the future they’d lost. She mourned the memories that were now unthinkable. Most of all, she agonized over the pounding heartache making it hard to stand tall. She had loved him. True love. Real love. The feelings that would never have allowed for betrayal and callous deception.

  “Just in case there was anything lost in translation…” She glared, taking his animosity head on. “We’re done.”

  His chest convulsed harder, up down, up down. In a flash of movement he sank his fist into the drywall, leaving a gaping hole as he withdrew. Then he admitted defeat. She could see it. His shoulders slumped, his eyes lost their ferocity, and he simply walked away, disappearing down the upper-level hall.

  She stood immobile. Her feet mere inches from the stairs, her heart mere pulses from its last beat.

  Dominic was right. She didn’t know the first thing about Keenan. He was a stranger, a manipulator, and a thief. He’d stolen everything she had to offer—the security of her job, her family, and her heart. He’d taken everything. And she’d let him. She’d given it freely, even after repeated warnings.

  “We’re done,” she whispered to herself and walked to the garage. Tears blurred her vision as she opened her car door, sank into the driver’s seat, and focused on her cell in the hands-free station.

  It sang to her, offering an escape plan at the press of a button. One she couldn’t pass up. A few taps on the screen later and the monotonous ring carried through her car.

  “Savannah?”

  She sucked in a sob and squeezed tight to keep it down. “Spencer, I’ve burned out. I can’t do this anymore. I need to come home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Date: 28th December

  Subject: Goodbye

  Dear Savannah,

  ‘I’m sorry’ seems like a poor excuse for an apology. It’s ridiculous how many times I’ve written those words only to delete them because they don’t hold enough conviction.

  But I am.

  I’m completely and utterly ruined by how sorry I am.

  There’s no explanation to appease the guilt. I knew I was hurting you without your knowledge. It was deliberate. I kept telling myself that this thing between us was only temporary. You were always meant to leave. And with your departure, the deceit would’ve died with it. Yet you tattooed yourself under my skin, and even now that you’re gone, I can’t let you go.

  I don’t expect you to want to understand what it’s like to be a capable man stuck in an incapable body. But the hard lessons in life have taught me that a lack of speech is intriguing and challenging, yet an uncompromising adult stutter is a nuisance and the easiest way to be degraded by everyone—professionals, friends, and strangers alike.

  I rarely share my ability to talk or the inadequacy that comes with it.

  Apart from my father, who despises my lack of fluent speech, Dominic, Penelope, and your aunt, nobody else knows of my secret. The staff at Grandiosity aren’t aware. I’m not in contact with anyone from my school years, and I’ve distanced myself from extended family, too.

  So although your humiliation is justified, please be aware there was no malice behind it. It was merely my way of trying to stand tall beside the perfection of you.

  And you are perfect, Savannah.

  You’re everything.

  My everything.

  But now it’s time to stop torturing you with my contact, and say goodbye. I won’t email you again. You now have all the things I couldn’t say while we were together, and the only thing left is what you need to know moving forward.

  I adore you.

  I’ve adored you since you first teased me with your smile on the Augustines’ porch. There will never be another woman to fill the hole you’ve left. And I hope, one day, you will forgive me for breaking both our hearts.

  Keenan

  He sat back in his chair, reread his email and tried to ignore the overabundance of estrogen woven between the letters. He wished he could tell her more. Not only his nonsensical feelings, he wanted her to be aware of the history behind his decisions.

  But it was time to quit communication.

  Weeks had passed without a word from her. He couldn’t gain her attention. Not from the texts, or the attempt to video call. Not even the flowers and expensive gifts. Noth
ing inspired a response.

  Not a damn thing.

  Her rejection was far more aggressive than the years of pity he’d endured. Every refresh of his inbox stole a piece of his pride, and he’d do it again and again and again if he didn’t think he was hurting her with each slide of his name amongst her emails.

  She didn’t want to hear from him. Not now. Not ever. And it was understandable. There wasn’t anything more vile than a man who shielded himself from pain by exposing a woman to it.

  “Are you coming to family dinner?” Penelope asked from his office doorway. “We’re expecting you.”

  He shook his head and clicked on the button to send his email into cyberspace. He didn’t have the strength to face the Augustines yet. Solitude was preferred, especially when Dominic had made it clear he wasn’t welcome.

  “Your silent treatment is starting to piss me off.” She stepped into his office and clicked the door shut behind her. “Why am I being punished?”

  She knew why. It didn’t stop her from asking, though. Penelope had taunted him non-stop since he vowed he wouldn’t talk unless it was to Savannah. If he couldn’t speak to the woman he loved, he’d speak to no one.

  Chivalrous? No. It was an excuse to slink further into his own little world and ignore everyone else’s existence.

  He shooed her with a flick of his wrist and an annoyed glare. Hurting Penelope wasn’t something he enjoyed either, but this situation brought back memories of when he’d deceived her in the same way. The only difference was her willingness to forgive and the constant reminder that she still wanted to be with him.

  If only he loved her in return, this never would’ve happened. But his feelings didn’t mimic hers. She’d grown to be like the sister he’d never had among the family who had taken him in as one of their own. The Augustines were the only people he’d trusted with his stutter, and it hadn’t come easily. One word turned into two, a greeting into a farewell, and soon he felt comfortable slipping his voice into their conversation.

  He did it on his own terms, in his own time, which meant he didn’t butcher his communication like he did everywhere else. Savannah wouldn’t understand that, though. She wouldn’t realize it took months and months of constant nagging from Dominic to get him to attend ‘family dinner’ after he’d broken Penelope’s heart. She wouldn’t know it took over a year to answer the simplest questions from Mrs. Augustine over what portions he wanted at dinner.

  Nobody knew that but them. And he’d thought that would always be the case.

  “I wouldn’t recommend letting down my mother again,” Penelope continued. “Ignore her enough and she’ll drive into the city and drag you back to her dinner table.”

  He conceded a half-hearted smile. Mrs. Augustine wouldn’t dare. She was too sweet. So sweet, in fact, that her kindness had meant he’d been able to manipulate her into keeping secrets from her only niece.

  “Come on.” She approached his desk and cocked her hip against the wood. “You’re spending New Year’s with us. I won’t take no for an answer. So you should come tonight to get the awkwardness over and done with.”

  “No,” he mouthed and stood to retrieve his coat from the back of his seat. His current attitude wasn’t conducive for celebration. He’d spent Christmas alone. He’d do the same with the bringing of the New Year.

  He slid his arms into the thick material and made to step around his desk, only to be blocked by her slender body.

  “Keenan…” She placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes that Savannah had threatened to claw. “When are you going to let me in?”

  He ignored the question, her touch, and the reminder from the past, and repositioned his collar.

  “Refusing to speak won’t make anything better.”

  He stepped away, but she countered, sliding back into his path. Her hand lowered to his waist, underneath the jacket, to the thin business shirt beneath. “She’s not coming back.” Her pretty face turned somber. “You need to let it go.”

  She was right.

  Settlement was tomorrow, and if Savannah was attending the scheduled meeting in the morning he would’ve heard of her arrival by now.

  “Don’t do this to your—”

  His computer dinged with an incoming email, the innocent, most mundane sound resulting in the stiffening of his entire body.

  “She’s not going to get in contact with you.” Her eyes implored him. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  She wasn’t wrong. She hadn’t been in any assessment or statement since Savannah left. But not confirming on his office computer would only mean he’d pull out his cell to make sure. His imagination was more of an optimist than he liked to admit.

  He backtracked and leaned over his office chair to stand immobile, his gaze caught on the unread email sitting at the top of his inbox.

  “What is it?”

  His throat tightened and the slightest flicker of hope ignited in a chest devoid of warmth. Her name was there, at the top of his screen, the accompanying subject read—

  AUTOMATED RESPONSE: Out of Office.

  Penelope came to his side. “Open it.”

  He already was, his fingers doing a double-click on the mouse.

  Please be advised that as of 27th of December I will be in Seattle overseeing the changeover of the Rydel property. Once settlement is complete, I will be taking an extended vacation and any queries should be forwarded to my assistant, Rebecca, who will endeavor to find the right person to answer your questions.

  Kind regards

  Savannah Hamilton - Rydel Hotels

  His stomach bottomed out.

  “She’s here,” Penelope whispered.

  In Seattle. At Rydel. Mere blocks away.

  He turned to the woman who was supposed to have ensured he was immediately informed of Savannah’s arrival and signed—Did you ask our staff to keep an eye out for her?

  Her lips worked in a blatant admission of neglect. “It was an unprofessional request. I knew we’d find out soon enough if she returned.”

  He exhaled a breath at the invisible blow she’d landed to his gut and strode for the door.

  “Keenan, please.” Her footsteps followed behind him. “Let me help.”

  He swung around and glared. Help, he signed and backed it up with a violent mime of his lips. Why?

  “I want you to be happy.” She swallowed, hard, her delicate throat convulsing in a torturous movement. “I know there’s never going to be an ‘us’ again. I know you don’t love me the same way I love you. I struggled to come to terms with that… And then you being with her, even when it was only casual… I struggled so hard, Keenan. But now, all I want is for you to be happy.”

  He hated her pain. He hated it almost as much as he hated the memory of Savannah’s unshed tears.

  “Let me help,” she pleaded. “Let me come with you.”

  Her hand raised between them, trying to forge a connection, and all he could do was stare. He’d hurt Savannah. He’d hurt Penny and Dominic and Mrs. Augustine. Wherever he went, he left a trail of destruction and a path of tears he never wanted to be associated with.

  He just wanted to be normal. For every moment of his life to be devoid of degradation, or the fight to show his worth. To live without scrutiny like he had when he’d been with Savannah—the two of them in seclusion, away from judgment and negativity.

  “No.” He grabbed her hand to place a placating kiss on her knuckles. Having her at his side would be a blessing. He needed to establish Savannah’s room number, gain access to her floor, and communicate with anyone who got in his way. But Penelope wasn’t the person to drag along for the ride.

  “You need me.” She squared her shoulders and reminded him of how many times he’d cursed his father for employing such a stubborn woman. “Believe me. I know how to make her angry, but I also know how to make her listen. I’ll be able to help.”

  Fuck. He didn’t have the luxury of arguing about this with
her. Even if he won, she’d follow.

  “Okay.” He nodded and moved to open the office door.

  “Thank you.”

  He shook his head, disregarding her words because clearly they weren’t necessary. If they did find Savannah and if she did spare him a moment of her time, he was almost positive they would all be left broken and bloodied in the aftermath.

  Actually, with Penelope at his side he was sure it was a foregone conclusion.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I’ll do you a deal.” Penelope placed a hand on the Rydel reception counter and batted her lashes at the woman staring back at her. “You cut the bullshit and tell me which room is reserved under Savannah Hamilton, and you get to keep your job once we take over at midnight.”

  “Ma’am,” the woman smiled, smug as hell, “as I’ve told you before, Savannah’s name isn’t registered as a guest. I’m happy to show you the search screen if you don’t believe me.”

  They’d been drilling her with questions for ten minutes. From what he could tell, she hadn’t given them false information. Yes, Savannah was in Seattle. Yes, she’d been in the hotel today. No, she wasn’t scheduled to attend the final hand-over meeting in the morning.

  If she wasn’t lying, that left him with fewer opportunities to win her back.

  “So, she’s staying here, but not under her own details?” Penelope grated. “Is it a false name, maybe?” She turned to him and gave a this-woman-is-going-to-die look. “Do you know her favorite Disney character? ’Cause we could be guessing fake names all damn night.”

  No. It wasn’t a Disney character. He feared it was far worse as he signed seven excruciatingly painful letters.

  Penelope responded with a wince and turned back to the receptionist. “How about Spencer Rydel? Is she staying with him?”