Wordless

by Sabrina Stark

  He was wrong. I would’ve recognized him anywhere.

  But then, at a sudden realization, I sat up straighter in the booth. "So that's why you don't stay in the same cities as your book-signings. You're hoping that people won't recognize you." I smiled. "Am I right?"

  "It's one reason," he said.

  "So, what are the other reasons?"

  "Do I need other reasons?"

  "No. But with the way you phrased it, I just figured there had to be more."

  From across the table, he gave me a long, speculative look. "You don't miss a thing, do you?"

  He'd said something similar before. But it wasn't true. I missed plenty. And the longer I got to know him, the more I realized that he had more secrets than I knew.

  And he wasn't fond of sharing them.

  Chapter 55

  Jack

  We were in some hotel in Arizona when she said, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

  We were naked in a king-size bed, and I pulled her close. As I nuzzled her hair, I asked, "Can I stop you?"

  "Probably not," she said with a laugh. But then her laughter faded. "Those scars on your legs, you remember how you said you fell through a window?"

  I stiffened. "I remember."

  She pulled back and gave me a worried frown. "You weren't pushed or anything, were you?"

  "No. Why do you ask?"

  "Because I care about you. And you were so young."

  "Ten?" I might've laughed if it were funny. "It's not that young." Or it least it hadn't been for me.

  But Becka wasn't done. "I just mean…I know you were in a bunch of foster homes."

  "Forget it."

  "Why?"

  I didn't want to lie, not to her. "Because it's not true."

  "What?" She gave me a perplexed look. "Are you sure?"

  "I think I'd know."

  "I know. I just meant…" She paused. "Why does your bio say that if it's not true?"

  There was the long answer, and then there was the short answer. I went for the short one. "Because my dad's a dick."

  "So?"

  "So if I give his name, they'll go looking for him. And it's better if they don't."

  "So wait…you weren't an orphan?"

  "I'm an orphan now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "My mom, she died when I was a baby. And my dad…" I made a sound of disgust. "He's dead too, except he's still walking around."

  "Where?"

  "No place you'd want to visit."

  "But how can he be dead if he's still alive?"

  "He's dead to me," I said. "End of story."

  "So you don't want to talk about it?"

  "No." I put some more distance between us. "So drop it, all right?"

  Her mouth tightened. "All right. If that's what you want." And with that, she yanked up the covers and turned to face the other way.

  Shit. I was being a dick. I didn't want to be, but even if I wanted to bare my soul, now wasn't the time.

  And, I wasn't used to this.

  Silence – it was an old habit, ingrained so deep it had become second-nature. Almost no one really knew me, or hell, even who I was. It was better this way.

  Until now. Or more accurately, until Becka.

  Until her, keeping my distance had been easy.

  Not anymore.

  Already, she'd burrowed too deep under my skin, making me reconsider everything I thought I knew.

  And now I'd hurt her.

  Not for the first time either.

  I gave a silent curse. If she stuck around, there was plenty more where that came from.

  A smarter guy – hell, a nicer guy – would end this now and be done with it. Some might say I'd be doing her a favor.

  Screw that.

  What I wanted was her. I liked the way she made me feel. And I wanted to spoil her like she deserved to be spoiled.

  If she thought her sister had done too much for her, she hadn't seen anything yet. When it came to resources, I had plenty. We could build a life, a phenomenal life. But first, I needed to get through this tour.

  As we lay in silence, I thought of everything my money could buy – houses, cars, travel, whatever. I could give her the world on a silver platter.

  But I couldn’t give her myself, not fully, and not yet.

  Still, there was something I could do. I reached out to caress her shoulder. "Listen, I don't mean to be an ass, okay?"

  Slowly, she turned in the bed to face me. "Oh yeah?" she said. "And I don't mean to thump you on the forehead."

  I wasn't following. "What?"

  A split-second later, she reached up and flicked my forehead with her index finger. "See?" she said with a laugh. "Total accident."

  "I'll give you an accident," I said and pulled her back into my arms. And right there, tangled in the covers, I kissed away her questions along with my own concerns, which were growing by the day.

  If I were smart, I'd send her straight to her sister, where she wouldn't be tainted by anything I did on my own. And yet, like an asshole, I did nothing of the sort.

  Already, we'd extended her internship for another semester, and she'd registered for a couple of additional classes – distance learning, where she could earn the credits without setting foot on campus.

  As the weeks turned into months, we traveled back and forth across the country, hitting city after city on my list – small cities, medium cities, and even a few larger ones on the way.

  Becka didn't realize it, but I'd planned this trip personally, choosing each city for a specific reason.

  But there was something I hadn't planned on – falling for a girl who noticed far too much.

  Chapter 56

  Jack

  From the passenger's seat, she said, "Hey, what happened to your notebook?"

  We were driving from our current hotel to the next stop on the tour. The drive would take an hour each way, and I was feeling relaxed and easy behind the wheel.

  I replied, "What notebook?"

  "Oh come on," she said. "You know which one. It's that black notebook you used to carry with you sometimes. Did you lose it?"

  I hadn't. The truth was, I still had it with me. And I still made notes in it. I just didn't see the upside of pulling it out where Becka could see.

  I said, "It's around somewhere. Why do you ask?"

  "Because we were just talking about your next novel." She paused. "Do you know, when I first started, I was convinced that you had writer's block or something?"

  "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

  "Because you always had that notebook, and you'd be scribbling and stabbing at the pages, like the notebook had wronged you somehow."

  I shrugged. "Maybe the notebook had it coming." I'd meant it as a joke, but there was more truth to the statement than she knew.

  Undaunted, she continued. "I used to think you were making notes about your plot or outline or whatever. But now I think it's something totally different."

  It was. But it wasn't something I wanted to discuss. Still, I kept my tone neutral. "Oh yeah? Why?"

  "Because whenever we're pondering your next book, and you want to make a note of something, you pull out your phone, not the notebook. So I'm thinking that probably the notebook's for something else."

  She was right.

  I asked, "Like what?"

  "You tell me," she said with a laugh. "So…what were you scribbling in there? Notes about the tour?"

  I gave it some thought before saying, "Yeah. To-do lists mostly."

  "Oh." She hesitated. "Probably I should've guessed that, huh?"

  She practically had.

  I didn't get it. For all Becka knew, I hadn't touched the notebook in weeks.

  This wasn't the case, but I had been careful. And now I was curious. "What made you think of it?"

  "The notebook?" she said. "I just realized that I hadn't seen it in a while, which was odd, because it seemed so important at first."

  It still was. As I drove along the rural hig
hway, I studied Becka from the corner of my eye. Even now, her wheels were still turning.

  I'd met a lot of girls over the years. Some were book smart. Some were street smart. But none of them were like Becka, who had plenty of both – and made a habit of saying exactly what she thought.

  And yet, when I'd first met her, I'd had her pegged as a different kind of person, someone who went through life with blinders on – someone with a lot of heart, but not a lot going on upstairs.

  Almost from the start, she'd proved me wrong.

  I liked it.

  But it was still a problem.

  Silently I compared the Becka I'd seen at her condo to the Becka sitting in my passenger's seat. They were the same girl. And they weren't.

  That earlier version had been wearing blinders so big it was a wonder she saw anything at all.

  "Here's a question," I said. "All these things you notice – why didn't you do that with your roommate?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "There was plenty to see. The dilated pupils, the sweaty skin, the pharmacy in his bedroom. And you didn't notice?"

  "Maybe I didn't want to get close enough to notice."

  Recalling the guy's behavior, I felt my fingers flex around the steering wheel. "But you noticed his dick. He made damn sure of that."

  She hesitated. "Just what are you getting at?"

  "Your safety," I said. "The guy's a druggie and a pervert. And you were still living there? Why?"

  "Well, I'm not living there now."

  "Obviously." I softened my tone. "I'm just asking why."

  "You mean, why I didn't move?"

  "That, and why you didn't see the trouble straight-off."

  "I saw," she said. "I just needed time to come up with a plan, that's all. And besides, I wasn't dealing with him, not at first. I was dealing with Tara, the girl who rented me the place."

  I still wasn't buying it. "Even with Tara, you missed more than you saw. So I'm curious why."

  "Wait a minute…" Becka turned sideways in her seat to face me. With a smile, she said, "Does this mean that you're the one with questions for a change?"

  "You could say that."

  "Hmmm." Her tone grew speculative. "If I were smart, I'd whip out a no-questions clause and make you suffer."

  I knew what she was getting at. "Like you've been suffering?"

  "Exactly."

  I turned my head and gave her a long, lingering glance. "You weren't suffering last night."

  "I was, too," she said. "My stomach is still sore."

  I frowned. "What happened? Are you all right?"

  "Oh sure, I'm fine," she said. "But my abs? With all that convulsing, they're...well, let's just say they got a super good workout." She snickered. "So really I'm the victim here."

  "Oh yeah?" I was grinning now. With feigned innocence, I asked, "Convulsing from what?"

  "Oh, shut up," she laughed. "You know what."

  I did. Last night, we'd been up until nearly dawn. I couldn’t get enough of her. And vice-versa.

  I'd never been with anyone so responsive. She was sweet and sexy and up for just about anything.

  I loved making her climax. And I was damn good at it, too.

  "Is that a complaint?" I teased. "Because I could ease off a little…"

  "No," she blurted. And then, she cleared her throat. "I just mean, well…" She laughed. "You know what? This conversation has gone way off track."

  It had. But in a good way.

  I wasn't used to it – the laughter, the teasing, the way she made me smile even when we disagreed. For me, it was a new sensation. I loved it.

  But that didn't satisfy my curiosity. "So, are you gonna answer the question?"

  With mock confusion, she replied, "There was a question?"

  "You know there was." Still I repeated the gist of it. "With the roommate, why didn't you see the trouble sooner?"

  "So you really want to know?"

  "If I didn't, I wouldn't be asking."

  Again, her tone grew speculative. "If I tell you, will you tell me a secret in return?"

  Now that got my attention. "So it's a secret, huh?"

  "Maybe not a secret." She paused. "More like a theory."

  "Go ahead. I'm all ears."

  "Oh yeah?" she teased. "I know that feeling."

  "How about this?" I said. "You tell me this theory of yours, and I'll tell you something in return."

  "Like what?"

  "Something nobody else knows."

  That made her pause. "No kidding?"

  "No kidding."

  And I knew just the thing I'd tell her.

  Chapter 57

  Becka

  It was an intriguing offer. From the passenger's seat, I studied his face in profile. "So it's a secret?"

  "You could say that."

  "What is it?" I asked.

  He smiled. "You first."

  I loved his smile. I recalled how rare those had been in the beginning. Some days they were still rare. Not today.

  And now I didn't want to ruin it by dwelling on things that I couldn’t change. "Actually, I'm not sure we should talk about it."

  "Why not?" he asked.

  "Because it's such a nice day, and I'll probably get all morbid. Nobody wants that, right?"

  "Morbid how?"

  "Oh, you know. Depressing." Still, I forced a smile. "So actually, maybe we should just talk about the weather or something."

  The whole weather topic had become a longstanding joke. I waited for him to laugh, or at least smile.

  But he didn't. "Forget the weather," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking."

  "It's just the answer to your question – as to why I didn't notice the stuff with my roommate. I guess I have a theory, but it's kind of disturbing." I almost winced. "To be honest, I'm not even sure you'd want to hear it."

  "And I'm sure I do."

  Still, I hesitated.

  In a quiet voice, he said, "Tell me."

  "All right." I bit my lip. "But remember, you asked for it."

  "Duly noted."

  With growing dread, I said, "Okay, you remember that my dad died when I was little, right?"

  "Right."

  "And my mom got remarried, pretty soon, actually. The guy's name was Gordon, and he was kind of a creeper."

  In the driver's seat, something in Jack's posture changed, becoming more rigid, or at the very least, less relaxed. Still, his voice remained eerily calm as he said, "Is that so?"

  "Yeah. The way he looked at my sister, it was really weird." At the recollection, I stifled a shudder. "Maybe I didn't realize it at first, but later on, when I hit junior high and became more aware of things, I started to notice that he looked at Anna all the time."

  Now I did shudder. "It was like he wanted to eat her alive or something. And it's the 'or something' that was the real problem."

  "So he was attracted to her. That's what you're saying?"

  I gave a snort of disgust. "That's putting it nicely. But anyway, yes, he was attracted to her, maybe even obsessed with her. It made our house really stressful, especially for Anna."

  "I can imagine. And what about you?"

  "It was different. I mean, I was three years younger than Anna." I tried to laugh. "I still am, actually. But I just mean, it wasn't the same."

  "How so?"

  "Well, the thing is…" I couldn't help but cringe. "…I hadn't yet 'blossomed', as Gordon liked to put it."

  Under his breath, Jack said, "What the fuck?"

  "Yeah. No kidding. But anyway, once I was old enough to realize that he was drooling over Anna, it was worse for both of us, especially her." At the memory, my stomach clenched, but not in a good way. "And not just because she had to deal with Gordon. She was dealing with me, too."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, she started to notice that I was noticing." I sighed. "And it made everything so much worse."

  "Worse how?"

  "She was really embarrassed. And
even more worried." In a quieter voice, I added, "Not just about herself. About me."

  "I can see why," Jack said, giving me a sideways glance. "So I've gotta ask—"

  "Don't." I cleared my throat. "I just mean, no, Gordan never had that kind of interest in me." I looked heavenward. "Thank God." Desperately I tried to look on the bright side. "And even with Anna, nothing ever happened."

  "You sure about that?"

  "Yes. Absolutely." I tried for a shrug. "Who knows, maybe he just liked to look. But trust me, I know. He never touched her."

  "Because Anna told you?"

  "That's part of it," I said. "But even if she hadn't told me, I still would've known. My stepdad? He kept getting crabbier all the time, like he was living with a warm cherry pie he couldn’t eat." Again, I cringed. "That sounded awful, didn't it?"

  "The situation? Yeah. But your wording? No. I get what you mean."

  "Yeah, well, he's in prison now anyway – financial crimes and what-not. That's why Mom finally moved back to Wyoming."

  Forcing some cheer into my voice, I explained, "Her best friend from high school just got divorced, and apparently they're going to conquer the world."

  Jack's jaw tightened. "Is that so?"

  I hesitated. "Is something wrong? I mean, other than the obvious?"

  "It seems to me, she was no kind of mom."

  "Yeah, well…" I shrugged. "She had her good points, too, I guess."

  From the look on Jack's face, he wasn't buying it.

  Still, I was beyond eager to end this already. I finished by saying, "Anyway, all that to say, Anna had a pretty rough time of it, but as long as I acted like everything was normal, she seemed to feel better."

  "And how about you?"

  I smiled. "If she felt better, I felt better."

  Jack was quiet for a long moment before saying, "I get what you mean."

  "So I guess the lesson is, if you can't do anything anyway, sometimes it's better to suck it up and pretend you're not seeing what you're seeing, if only so the people you love don't feel so bad." And now, I just had to ask, "Does that make me a coward?"

  Jack didn't hesitate. "No."

  I wasn't quite sure I believed him, but it was still nice to hear. "Well …thanks." I blew out a long, shaky breath. "See? I told you I'd get all morbid."

  And now I was desperate to end on a high note. Going for a joke, I said, "And now that all I'm all grown up, if Gordon ever gets out, I'm pretty sure I'll have to kill him."