Inarticulate (25 page)

H
e 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. Nothing 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—

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.

“
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?”

A bright smile beamed back at them. “From my knowledge, yes, she is staying in a room booked under his name.”

“Fuck.” Penelope swung around again. “Do you still want to do this?”

He inclined his head, prepared for whatever punishment he had to take. It hadn’t escaped his mind that she might have gone home to her ex. The guy had been all over her during the wedding, only pausing his affection to try his luck with Penelope.

“Give me a room number.”

“806,” the receptionist rattled off without looking at her screen.

“That’s Savannah’s room?”

“Oh, no.” The woman snickered and tippy tapped on her keyboard. “You didn’t specify. And besides, I can’t give you that information. It’s not only a breach—”

“Yes, yes, a breach of company policy.”

“—it’s also a safety issue…” She lowered her voice. “However, if I go to the bathroom and someone looks at the search I’ve pulled up on my screen, it’s beyond my control.” The woman stepped back from her computer and unclipped a security pass from her pants pocket. “I’m just going to leave this here.” She slid the plastic card next to her keyboard as she eyed the other receptionist on the far end of the desk.

Penelope didn’t spare a second waiting for the woman to leave. She snatched the security card, handed it over her shoulder to him, then turned the computer monitor around.

“There’s two rooms under his name.” She spared him a quick glance. “509 and the penthouse.”

He held up a hand. “
Five.
” He was pinning his hopes on Spencer booking the penthouse for himself and a standard room for Savannah.

Pinning and praying.

“Lead the way.”

He strode through the chaos of the lobby, maneuvering around employees taking furniture into the building and others who were taking it out. The elevator ride was hell. Thirty seconds of contemplative agony, where he questioned his motives.

Then his knuckles were on door 509 and he began to knock with hard strokes.

“Do you want me to say anything specific?” Penelope asked.

He shook his head and stared at the door, wordlessly begging it to open. A ragged breath tore from his lungs, then another, and another until the lock released and he was staring at the woman who owned him.

She stood in the doorway, dressed in a long navy skirt and buttoned up cream blouse that clung tight to her breasts. She was the epitome of his future, his happiness rolled up into one sensational package of sexy legs, gorgeous hazel eyes, and the unmistakable jut of her dignified chin.

The mere sight of her made him feel worthless and determined to succeed at the same time. Hopeless and hopeful.

“Mr. Black?” Her expression was schooled, not an ounce of shock showing through her composed features. “Can I help you?”

He squared his shoulders and tried to relax. Tried and failed spectacularly. “We n-n-need—”
Fuck.
He hated that sound. Despised it. There wasn’t an inch of his skin that wasn’t crawling from revulsion, but he’d withstand it. He’d do anything. For her. “T-to talk.”

She blinked at him, one hand clutching the door, the other pressed against the frame. “Is this about settlement? Because Spencer would be the best person to speak to. I’m only here to ensure all Rydel property is taken from the building and to say goodbye to friends.”

Her voice had wavered the slightest bit. She wasn’t unaffected by him, and the knowledge encouraged confidence.

“
No
,” he mouthed.

“Everything under control, Savannah?” The male voice carried from her room, practically neutering him.

She kept her gaze trained on his as a large, familiar frame came up behind her.

Spencer.

Fucker.

The guy placed a hand on her shoulder, a protective hand Keenan would’ve wanted to break on a good day, but when it caused Savannah to stiffen, he itched to fracture every bone in the man’s body.

“I’m fine.” She stepped to the side, letting the asshole through. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure.” Spencer jerked his chin in greeting. “Good to see you both again.” His tone implied otherwise.

“You, too,” Penelope added after seconds of awkward silence.

Keenan sensed the guy’s departure but didn’t take his focus from Savannah who stood tall before him, waiting for answers.

“Can we come inside?” Penelope broke the silence.

“Why?” Savannah addressed him. “If it’s not about the settlement, then there’s nothing else to discuss.”

“Quit the charade,” Penelope muttered, “and just let him explain.”

“The charade?” Savannah shot a glare at her cousin. “That’s rich.”

He pulled his cell, prepared to type whatever he could to gain enough trust to buy some time.

“Save it.”

He glanced up to see her eying his phone. There was no malice, no anger. She was devoid of emotion. Entirely flat.

“I don’t want any more explanations.”

Penelope sighed, long and pained and deep. “Don’t you care about what he’s been through?”

“What he’s been through?” Something formidable sparked to life in Savannah’s eyes. “Are you oblivious to what
you’ve
put
me
through? What you put the staff through?
Christ
. How can you think I’d even want to speak to you after what you’ve done?”

“I felt the same way when you came back to Seattle. So please forgive me if I lack sympathy. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Keenan and how he risked his health to be with you. Didn’t you notice how tired he was from the drugs? How he—”

Fuck.
He grabbed the crook of Penelope’s arm and gave her a squeeze of warning.

The woman who had become his closest confidant looked him in the eye. “I knew, Keenan. And I hated every minute of it. You put yourself through hell and you did it all for her.”

“You need to leave,” Savannah murmured.

Hell, yes, she did. Penelope wasn’t doing him any favors. He tightened his grip, pleading. “
Go
.” He released his hold and jerked his head toward the elevator. “
Please
.”

“She needs to understand,” Penelope continued. “Maybe then she’ll let go of her pride.”

“
Go
,” he mouthed again. This wasn’t about anyone else’s pride. Only his.

“All right.” She nodded, her eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry. But please tell her.” He watched her retreat down the hall, his courage leaving with her.

Tension surrounded him. It was thick and tangible in the air. Nothing he did would get rid of it. There were no words, no actions. Nothing.

“Drugs?” Savannah murmured.

He sighed and met her gaze. She’d leaned against the door jamb, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“Medication,” he whispered, ensuring his voice remained strong.

If he could continue to speak like this, he could tell her everything. She could have all his secrets. All his promises. He’d never considered the ability to sing or whisper as a saving grace. He still didn’t because it didn’t change a thing in the professional world. But he’d do anything today. He’d whisper to Savannah until his dying breath if he had to.

“Those last weeks, you were always exhausted. Was that from the medication?”

He inclined his head. The same side effects had plagued him as a child, when his father had tried to medicate the stutter out of him with Xanax. Lethargy, nausea, and insomnia were all he got out of it. Both times the treatment failed.

“What was it meant to do?”

“Lessen the stutter,” his voice was barely audible. “Make it easier for me to face you when I finally explained.”

“You were going to tell me?”

He looked into those hazel eyes and gave an honest shrug. “I don’t know. I wanted to.”

She released an impassive breath of laughter.

“Well…” She shoved from the wall to stand tall. “Thanks for the clarity, but I don’t know what you expect from me.”

She knew. He could tell by the tremble in her fingers and the nervous swallow of her throat.

He chanced a step closer and leaned into her with his heart in his hands. “I expect nothing. But I would love your forgiveness.” He remained in place, so close to the soft temptation of her skin.

Her breath hitched, her chest expanded. “Is that all?”

She inched back, ripping the floor out from beneath him. He’d thought all he needed was to see her, to explain face to face. To whisper those words he’d wanted her to hear over and over again. But her expression was indifferent. Unemotional. She was successfully cutting him off.

She’d moved on.

“Please…” His throat was hoarse, from the influx of work, or maybe it was from fear. “Give me another chance.”

“I don’t think I can.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I want to.”

“
Just one
,” he mouthed. That’s all he needed. One more chance. One more opportunity to share all of him and prove he could make her happy.

“One more to go with the two you already destroyed?” She quirked a pained brow. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. But a third time? Come on, Keenan. I’m not that stupid and neither are you. You knew what you were doing and the results it would have if I found out.”

There was no denying the truth. He’d had one too many opportunities already.

“
Okay.
” Pain ricocheted through him with his stiff nod.

He’d never hated his inadequacies more. And compounding his self-loathing was the knowledge of his idiotic behavior—the ego, the need to protect his secrets.

He wanted to hug her. Just once. To kiss her cheek and inhale the scent of her that would never be comparable. Instead, he pivoted on his toes and stalked toward the elevator, determined not to look back.

“Keenan?”

Fuck.
He stopped. Turned.

She stepped into the hall and gave him a sad smile. “Just so you know, I adored you, too. I adored everything about you. The stutter wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

Then she was gone, slinking into her room and shutting the door on the only thing he’d ever cared about.