Silent No More

by N. E. Henderson

  He’s looking down at me with his eyebrows scrunched together. His expression tells me he is considering it, and then he takes a sharp breath and exhales.

  “That’s a lot easier said than done.” He releases me and takes a step back looking at me. His eyes glide down my body, and rest on my side. He can’t see my ribs, but I know that’s what he’s thinking about.

  “My father used to physically and mentally abuse my mother,” he tells me. I tense up at the mention of his dad, remembering the text message from him earlier today. The one I ignored and deleted.

  “What?” I question. My eyes are wide. He obviously needs to tell me this, but I’d rather not hear anything concerning that man.

  “I’ve hated my father for as long as I can remember. Nikki and I had to watch too many times, him hitting her, kicking her, saying things no one who loves their wife would say.” His eyes are red and he looks up like he’s trying to hold back unshed tears.

  “Nick, you aren’t like him,” I attempt to reassure him.

  “I know that…at least, I think I do, but…,” he trails off.

  “No 'buts'. You. Are. Not. Like. Him.” My voice is a little ragged at the end. He isn’t anything like him. I don’t want him to ever compare himself to that fucked-up man.

  He looks back down at me and blows out a breath of air. “I hope you like Chinese. I stopped and got dinner before I came.” I remember hearing a bag when he came in a few minutes ago.

  “Then let’s go eat. I’m starving.” I walk past him and head out of the bedroom.

  “You ate lunch, right? My sister brought you food today, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. I just didn’t finish all of it.” Hopefully, he will leave it at that.

  Or maybe not.

  “Why?” he asks. His eyebrows are pulled back in.

  “Does it really matter?” I answer vaguely as I sit down on the couch. The plastic bag with food is sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. Nick takes a seat on the couch next to me.

  “Because Nikki told you about this?” he says motioning to the cut above his eye. I nod and he clenches his jaw.

  “Don’t be mad at her,” I say to him as I lean forward to grab the bag of food and pull cartons out.

  “Too late, but that’s okay because she is way overdue for a little brother/sister bonding,” he says sarcastically. I look over at him. He catches my confused look. “You don’t have siblings, do you?” he states while grabbing a carton of Kung Pao Chicken. I grab the Sweet and Sour, digging in with a plastic fork. Nick gives me a questionable look.

  “What?” I ask him through a mouthful of food.

  “You’re supposed to eat that with chop sticks.” He’s giving me a “you can’t be serious” look.

  “Not me. I can’t use those things,” I tell him, pointing to his chopsticks. They are too complicated.

  “I can teach you,” he offers.

  “No thanks. This fork works just fine,” I say and take a large bite. The food is so good. This is comfort food to me.

  “Whatever!” He rolls his eyes. We continue eating in a comfortable silence.

  Once our meal has been devoured, Nick gathers the trash and takes it to the trashcan in the kitchen. I’m comfy on the couch so I remain seated, but grab my cellphone when I hear the “pinging” sound, telling me I have a text message. Leaning forward, I retrieve it from the table.

  I WON’T BE IGNORED

  I gasp when I read the display. Quickly, I swipe the screen to open the message. I know it’s from Nick’s father. It’s the same number I deleted earlier. I quickly do the same, deleting the message from my phone like it was never there. Go the fuck away, damn it.

  “Is something wrong? Are you hurting?” I hear Nick say. I look up to him walking back into the living room carrying two beer bottles. As he reaches me, he hands one to me and I stick my hand out to take it from him.

  “No,” I respond, then bring the cold bottle to my lips. I don’t think one beer is going to be enough. I guzzle the liquid until I need air. Releasing the bottle, I swallow and then take a deep breath.

  “Easy there, killer. There’s only a six pack in the fridge.” I don’t think it’s going to be enough either. I sit the half bottle of beer on the table and then crawl onto Nick’s lap. He proceeds to take a sip of his beer, and then places it next to mine.

  “Are we okay?” He nods as he places his palms on both sides of me, cupping my hips.

  “It’s been a really long day and I want to take a shower. Join me?” I quickly nod my head. I’m amazed at how at ease I feel when I’m in his arms. He scoots to the edge of the couch and I move my arms up and around his neck. Nick stands with me, and as I wrap my legs around his waist, he walks to bedroom.

  FOURTEEN

  Thursday morning arrives, although not soon enough. It’s been three days since my trip to the emergency room. Nick has kept a watchful eye on me, making me stay at home. I don’t protest, but the last three days have sucked. Well, mostly sucked.

  If not for my friends and Nick’s sister keeping me company, I wouldn’t have lasted more than a day sitting around doing nothing. I like to read, but even that gets old if that’s all there is to do. Don’t get me started on watching TV. Daytime TV is the worst. I can’t take all the soap operas and talk shows. Who enjoys that crap?

  Nikki has become as essential person in my life. I adore Nick’s sister, and over the last few days, I’ve discovered we’re a lot alike.

  Luckily for me, she doesn't kill me for outing her to her brother. She and I are doing a “spa day” at Serenity after my meeting with Teresa Matthews this morning. I really need a few hours of being pampered.

  The elevator doors open and I walk out into the main lobby at Lockhart Publishing. Rachel is all smiles as I make my way over to her desk.

  “Good morning, Shannon,” she says cheerfully.

  “Morning,” I greet her.

  She stands, walking out behind her desk. “Miss Matthews just wrapped up a conference call, so I’ll take you to her office, unless of course you want to say 'hi' to my boss first.” She’s giving me a knowing smile. Great. She knows I’m seeing Nick.

  “No, I’m only here to meet with Teresa. I’m sure Nick is busy anyway,” I say.

  “Okay, right this way then.” She leads me a short distance down a hall on the east side of the building. Rachel knocks lightly before entering the room. “Miss Taylor is here.”

  Teresa looks up from her computer and immediately pushes her chair back to stand. She is an attractive woman, and I’m guessing she’s in her early thirties, probably only a year or two older than Nick. She has loose blonde curls that stop right past her shoulders. She is wearing a tight-fitting black dress that stops just above the knee. The top is a swoop neck that shows off her abundance of cleavage.

  “Shannon, it’s great to see you again. Please come in and take a seat.” She gestures to the chairs in front of her desk. I walk up and plant myself in one the comfy chairs.

  “How are you this morning?” I say, making an effort to be nice. I like Teresa, but she always comes off a little fake. I wonder if she is like this with all clients?

  “Well, and you?” she asks, sitting back down in her chair.

  “Great thanks. So, what things in my portfolio did you want to discuss?” I ask, getting to the point. I’m ready to get my hour-long massage on, so the quicker we wrap this up, the quicker I’ll be relaxing.

  She turns in her chair grabbing what I’m assuming is my portfolio on the counter behind her. She turns back around and lays the collection on her desk. Thumbing through a few pages, I see she comes to a group of photos I took downtown in San Diego of an industrial warehouse that had graffiti art sprayed on it. These are my favorite photos in the collection. They showcase the artist’s beautiful talent.

  “I feel we need to remove these photos replacing them with a couple,” she pauses for a beat, “of more tasteful pictures. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Uh…
no.

  “How are these photos not tasteful?” I ask, lowering my brow. I’ve taken somewhat of a defensive tone with her, but I don’t care. She has just criticized my work. It’s not that I can’t take criticism, because I can. Everyone can use a dose of constructive criticism from time to time, and I also know I’m not going to make every person happy with my work. I don’t strive to. However, to say these photos aren’t tasteful is to say the artist’s work I captured isn’t tasteful. There aren’t many people in this world that have that type of creative talent.

  “These pictures show the work of a hoodlum defacing buildings. They don’t belong in a book that’s published by Lockhart Publishing.” She is trying to match my defensive tone. And now, she has pissed me off. Hoodlums? Did she really just use that term?

  “Is Nick…olas in agreement with this?” I spit out too quickly. I don’t know if she knows I’m in a relationship with him and really I don’t care. I wouldn’t use him to get my book published, but I do think he would have talked to me about this first.

  “Mister Lockhart,” she emphasizes the mister confirming that she doesn’t know about our relationship, “trusts my judgment. I’ve been doing this for many years. I know what needs to be done, and I know when to make tough decisions. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m trying to steer you in the right direction with your book.”

  “Those photos are art and I want them in the published version of the book,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I will stand firm on this.

  “Shannon, our contract states both parties must be in agreement to move forward with publication. I’m not in agreement with these pictures. Do you see what it looks like to have photos of buildings being defaced next to a photo of a saint?”

  “No, I guess I don’t see your point here,” I reply a little louder than I intended as I uncross my arms and begin to stand. “Perhaps we should terminate the contract if you aren’t going to publish it as is?”

  “What is going on in here?” I hear a deep and strong masculine voice. It’s a voice I’m all too familiar with. It’s a voice I can’t get enough of. Nick. My Nick.

  Teresa plasters on a fake smile while rolling her shoulders back to enhance her cleavage. Really? Doesn’t this chick know they can be seen without her poking her chest out? I roll my eyes, realizing what she is doing. She has a thing for Nick. It’s so obvious.

  “I asked a question,” Nick says as he walks further into the office.

  “I’m glad you stopped by. I’m sure you remember Miss Taylor,” she says, gesturing to me. “She and I are having a disagreement. Perhaps you can help me.”

  “What’s the problem?” he asks, pointing the question at me. Before I can answer him, Teresa speaks up.

  “I’m trying to explain to Miss Taylor that these photos don’t belong in her book. I’ve asked her to replace them with better photos,” she tells Nick as she is closing my portfolio and standing up.

  “If Shannon wants those photos in there, then they stay. If there aren’t any other problems, go ahead and send it off to publication.” He turns to look at me with a smile. His smile fades when Teresa speaks again.

  “Nicholas, did you not see the photos?”

  “I’ve seen every photo in there. Teresa, don’t make me repeat myself. Now, is this meeting over?” he asks her. She looks a little stunned, like she isn’t used to him disagreeing with her.

  “Yes.” She crosses her arms over her chest, only emphasizing her breasts even more.

  “Good.” Nick’s smile is back in place as he’s looks at me. “I’m taking you to lunch. Where do you want to eat?” he asks me.

  “You’re taking a client out to lunch? Since when do you do that, Nicholas?” I look over, noticing Teresa has stood up and is placing her hands on her hips.

  “No, Teresa, I’m not taking a client out to lunch. I’m taking my girlfriend out to lunch.” Her jaw falls open and I smile. Yeah, bitch, he’s mine.

  Nick takes my hand, pulling me out of her office. My mood has drastically changed in the last few minutes. “So where does my beautiful woman want to eat lunch?”

  “Mint,” I say quickly. “Nikki and I are meeting at Serenity at noon. Do you mind if I invite her to lunch with us?”

  “Of course not. I’ll shoot her a text to meet us there.” He takes his phone out of his pocket.

  FIFTEEN

  “So, do you know Nick’s VP, Teresa Matthews?” I ask Nikki while I’m laid out naked on a massage table with only a towel covering my ass. Nikki is in the same position next to me.

  “Yeah, I've met her a handful of times. Why?”

  “I don’t think I like her,” I admit.

  “Honey, are you the jealous type?” she teases.

  “I don’t know, maybe. I’ve never been before, but there is something about her that rubs me the wrong way. I mean, it’s obvious she has a thing for Nick, but…” I trail off, not sure what I’m really trying to say. Maybe I am being the jealous girlfriend type. I don’t want to be the jealous type at all.

  Nikki is quiet so I turn my head in her direction. She is looking at me and biting her bottom lip, like she’s trying to stop herself from speaking. “What?” I ask.

  She releases her lip and takes a large breath of air. When she exhales, she says, “I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but…” she stops scrunching her eyebrows together.

  “Spit it out. You can’t say that and then not spill,” I tell her.

  “Nick got really drunk at his office Christmas party last year and fucked her.” She is biting into her lip again like she’s bracing herself, wondering how I’m going to take this news.

  “Oh!” I’m not really sure what else to say to that. I turn my head in the opposite direction. I don’t want her to see the jealous look that I’m sure is plastered on my face. I can’t be mad and I’m not. Nick and I have only been dating for a month, and that happened close to six months ago.

  “Shannon, I’m sorry. I really have no filter. I tend to say whatever pops in my head.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m sure Nick has slept with a lot of women before me. He’ll be thirty-one in a couple of weeks after all.” I turn back to face her. I don’t care how many sexual partners Nick’s been with, but her…ughh…I just don’t like knowing this.

  “If it makes you feel better, you’re the only repeat,” she says, and I don’t think she is joking. Am I dating a man whore? Probably. Even I hopped into bed with him after day two of meeting him. I give her a weak smile.

  “Repeat, huh?”

  “I’m serious, and it’s a bit weird. I never thought I’d see the day my brother let himself fall in love.” She beams.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. We’ve only just met, you know,” I joke, but feel a ping in my chest. Certainly, we don’t love each other? Not yet anyway. Love takes time to grow and form. Nick and I have known each other two fucking minutes and didn’t I just end an engagement? Do I really want to be serious this quick? News flash, Shannon, it’s a little late for that. You already are serious with this man. We’ve only slept apart two nights since meeting, and that was only because he had to go on a business trip to Las Vegas.

  “Hello?” I look up to find Nikki waving a hand in front of my eyes. “Where the fuck did you just go? We were talking and then you just zoned out.”

  “Sorry,” I tell her and decide to change the subject. Enough about Nick and the subject of love. “So, how long have you and Jase been dating?” I ask as I feel the warm soft hands of the girl giving me a back massage start to knead the tight muscles below my shoulders. God…that feels so good. This is much needed after the month I’ve had. The message therapist is careful and stays away from my tender ribs and the center of my back area.

  “Um…that’s complicated,” she sighs out. “It’s not an easy answer I guess is what I’m trying to say.” She looks away.

  “Meaning?” I ask, not understanding. I asked an easy enough question. She turns her face back to look at me.

/>   “Jason and I are complicated, or well, I am…complicated that is. Jason is pretty normal…pretty great actually.” She leans her head from side-to-side, and I hear the crack of her neck. “We started dating when I was fifteen and he was sixteen.” There’s a small smile across her lips. She is obviously in love with her boyfriend.

  “Wow. Fifteen years, really…that’s amazing,” I tell her, but her smile fades at my enthusiasm.

  “It's been fifteen years, yes, but we haven’t been together a solid fifteen. There have been others in-between.” She sighs then adds, “For both of us.”

  “Oh,” I respond, not sure what to say. Her face has saddened, but I don’t know her well enough to say something that will cheer her up. “Everybody needs experience, right?”

  “No, not when you know it’s the right person. When you know the person you’re with is the only one you’re meant to be with, you gain experience exploring each other, not accumulating multiple bed partners. I’ve known Jason was my forever since I was a kid.”

  Damn. Nikki surprises me at every turn. She is so different from anyone I’ve ever met. She’s young, but wiser than I would expect a thirty year old to be.

  “When people find out we have been together for as long as we have, the next question is always, when are you getting married? Followed by, don’t you want kids?” She spits it out like it’s a bad taste in her mouth.

  “So, you and Jase don’t want to get married?” I ask for clarification.

  “Oh, Jason wants to get married,” she states.

  “And you don’t want to get married or have kids, I mean?” She looks up at me like a deer caught in headlights. I’m missing something here. She’s hesitant.

  “Nick doesn’t want kids either,” she huffs out, not really answering the question, but giving me more information that I think I want to know. So, Nick doesn’t want a family. Not that we are even close to that type of relationship and I certainly don’t want kids now. I have a career and I’m content. The mommy bug hasn’t bitten this girl…yet. But I think one day I’ll want a family. I’m sure of that.