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My muscles returned to a heightened state of alert, coiled and ready.
“We need to talk. Alone. And since your father has that asshole breathing down your neck all the time, this was the best way.”
His explanation didn’t ease an ounce of my tension.
“I did some interesting reading last night. I felt like something was off, so I asked a friend to gather information on you and your family. Your school records. Family history. Medical records.”
Every muscle in my body hardened to reinforced steel, keeping my lungs from inhaling even an ounce of air.
“I found it fascinating that the doctors had no explanation for your silence. Strange things happen sometimes, and I’m willing to admit that. But did you know your attending physician made a note in your chart that his impressions pointed to a psychosomatic trauma response?” Conner walked me backward until my Ralph Lauren blouse was pressed against the dirty alley wall. “Now, sweet little Noemi, I’ve watched you long enough to form my own opinions, and something doesn’t sit right with me. You know what I think?” He paused, not continuing until I shook my head. “I think there’s nothing wrong with your voice.”
And there it was.
How was it this man who didn’t know me at all had seen through my ruse faster than anyone? The longer my silence had extended, the more I’d feared this moment—the day my secrets unraveled like the threads of a silk scarf in a stiff wind.
I wiggled to free my hands and extract my notepad only to have Conner yank the tattered pages from my fingers and toss them inside a nearby dumpster.
I shook my head in adamant denial. A refusal to talk. To admit anything.
“No more games, Noemi. Tell me the fucking truth,” he barked.
My entire body shook with panic, but adrenaline quickly triggered my fight-or-flight response.
Who does this man think he is? He has no right to do this. To demand anything of me.
My eyes narrowed as fury took hold. I shoved at his chest repeatedly, forcing him to retreat, and he let me, but only a little. I shouldn’t have lashed out, but it was the only thing I could do to keep the caustic words that burned my tongue from spewing past my lips.
A few inches at a time, we move from the wall as I took out all my frustrations on his Armani-clad chest until he had enough and seized my hands.
“You can throw a fit all you want, but I’m not leaving this alley without some answers. And if you can’t give me any, maybe we should ask your father.”
Every molecule in my body went cold, freezing me in place.
Conner took out his phone. The sight thawed me back into action, but now my movements were frenzied with desperation. I clasped both hands on his forearm, pleading wordlessly for him to stop.
“Words, Noemi,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “I need words.”
I tried to slap the phone from his hands. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and a sob clawed at my throat. I gave everything I could, but Conner evaded me easily, clasping both of my hands in one of his.
Using his thumb, he pulled up my father’s contact information and displayed the screen where I could see it. “Does your father know about the doctor’s suspicions?”
Dad would have had to have cared in order to ask. The reason for my silence was irrelevant in his eyes. Him finding out my muteness was selective wasn’t the reason Conner’s threat terrified me. I feared his questions would pique my father’s suspicions about what I might or might not have said to my husband-to-be. I didn’t have to tell on my father to feel his wrath. All that mattered was what he believed I might have said—that I might have told Conner what happened the day of my mother’s crash.
I shuddered to think of what my father would do.
Defeat pillaged all my strength, leaving me weary and empty. My hands fell to my sides as my tear-filled eyes locked with Conner’s hardened stare. A distant siren drifted in the air along with the rancid stench of desperation.
If I did this, there would be no going back. But I saw no other choice. I had to break my silence and trust that giving him this shred of truth would be better than the alternative.
I took a shaky breath and parted my lips. “Please … don’t.” The words sounded as raw as they felt. Raw and vulnerable and desperate.
Conner’s eyes widened with bemused fascination, as though he hadn’t fully expected his threat to work. Then his hands clasped the back of my neck and pulled me close until his forehead rested against mine. His eyes bore so deep into my soul, I feared he’d cleave me in two.
“You’ll give me your voice from now on?” His own voice softened, but his words were still more command than question.
When I nodded in response, his hand tightened on my neck with warning.
“Yes, I promise.” Anything to keep him from asking more questions and demanding answers.
