Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series) Read online

  I take a glance inside and notice the interior is clean, with everything chromed to perfection, inside and out. The leather seats are immaculate; the seating looks almost new and redone. He must either have had it restored to its original condition or paid a pretty penny for a car this well taken care of.

  I stand there and fantasize what it would feel like to be behind the wheel of this car, driving it. Man, how I wish it was possible.

  I look back at Matt, and he's observing me with fascination.

  “What?” I ask, looking at him.

  He shakes his head and states, “That's one thing you don't have in common with Em. Although I have the car, she hated Eleanor.”

  What the hell did he just call the car?

  “You named your car Eleanor? That’s an old lady’s name.” I look at him horrified.

  He laughs. “Eleanor is a vintage name, and being that my car is vintage, it’s the perfect name,” he declares, happy with himself.

  Seeing that I’m not satisfied with his answer, Matt curiously asks, “What would you have named her?”

  I think about his question before asking, “So it’s a girl?”

  “Of course.”

  I lift my eyes, pondering the question once again and tap my finger to my lips, thinking hard about what he just asked.

  “Carly.”

  Matt now gives me a horrified and disgusted look. “I would never… in my life… name my car, ‘Carly’,” he says, using his fingers to make air quotations. “It isn’t unique enough.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, it’s better than sounding like an old lady,” I say to him.

  Thinking about how our conversation started, I ask him, “How can she have hated this car? You’re right, it is a classic.”

  “I first asked her for the car when I turned sixteen. She refused, claiming it wasn't safe enough for me or the environment, but she ended up surprising me and bought it for me anyways.” He's looking at the car with a sad expression, his eyes glazing over, and he's blinking like he's fighting back tears.

  “She claimed that even though it wasn’t the car she wanted for me, it was the one I wanted, and I deserved to have what I wanted, even if it was a car. It was pretty banged up when we bought it, but she said it would give me character if I fixed it up. She also made me get a job to earn the money to restore it. It took me over three years to get it looking like this, but she was so proud of me when I was finally finished.”

  He’s still staring at the car like he’s remembering the moment. “But then again I could never disappoint her, because I owed her my life. So I made sure it never happened,” he finishes.

  “What kind of car did she drive?”

  He looks over in my direction and my heart almost melts when he smiles at me with a light chuckle. “A Prius.”

  This is when I notice he has one sexy smile to go with those killer eyes. Remembering his response from a moment ago, I laugh. I can’t imagine driving a Prius. I've got nothing against the whole “green” thing, but that would be the last type of car I would pick for myself.

  Probably thinking that our tour down memory lane is done, Matt starts to walk towards the front door and I follow him. As we enter the house he informs me he’s going to take a shower, so I decide to wait in the living room with Trey.

  As I’m walking back into the house I notice the mess again, and I make myself useful, and start cleaning up all the bottles and cans. For some reason seeing this clutter is driving me nuts.

  Trey is watching me and starts to shake his head.

  The doorbell rings and he heads to the door. It must be the pizza he ordered earlier. After paying the driver he shuts the door, heads over to the kitchen counter, and places the pizza on the counter. Once I've thrown the last of the bottles away in the recycle bin, Trey hands me a plate with a slice of pizza on it.

  He’s lightly laughing, “Couldn't help yourself, huh? I should've expected it.”

  I take a bite of my slice with a confused look on my face wondering why he would expect that of me.

  “Em used to always get on our ass about the mess, she always started cleaning up after our shit the minute she was done hugging us. It used to drive her nuts to see the clutter.”

  I think back to the apartment Bill and I are sharing and realize that everything is clutter free. The closet that held my clothing was neatly organized, and the rest of the place was very orderly.

  I know for sure I must have been like this before the whole memory loss so I ignore the comparison that Trey brought up. It must be a coincidence.

  Although it does throw me for a loop, because that's exactly how I felt the whole time I was sitting in the living room. I couldn’t stand being in the chaos of the mess.

  Matt finally emerges from the hallway, looking fresh and clean, and I take the moment to completely take him in.

  He’s wearing some basketball shorts, with a black t-shirt that is worn tight to his body. Almost like an undershirt. The beautiful winged tattoo on his arm is half covered by the sleeve of his shirt, but the remainder of it is in clear view.

  As I’m observing him, my body starts to feel tingly and my head is getting woozy.

  What is going on with me? I don’t really know this guy and my body is already getting turned on from looking at him. I’m as bad as Bill with the thoughts that are swirling around in my head about what I would really love to do to him at this moment.

  All I know is it doesn’t involve any clothing at all.

  Matt heads straight to the pizza box, grabbing a slice and eating straight from the box.

  Good thing I’m already done eating my slice and feeling full because from the guilt I’m starting to feel, I would have lost my appetite.

  I know that it’s now my cue to get out of there before I try to take action on my X-rated thoughts. “Look, I appreciate the welcome, but I should head back before my fiancé starts to get suspicious about me being gone,” I say to them.

  Matt and Trey look at each other confusedly and then look at me.

  Looking back at me Trey asks, “So, where exactly does he think you are?”

  I shrug my shoulder. “Hell if I know, I didn’t tell him anything. He called earlier, but I turned my phone off,” I tell them.

  Matt raises an eyebrow, stopping mid-bite into his slice. His lips go into a deep frown with a somber look on his face. Obviously, he doesn’t know what to think of this whole situation, and neither do I. Deciding he’s lost his appetite, he tosses the pizza slice on top of the box and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

  His deep brown eyes bore into me as he asks, “So what happens now?”

  “I don’t know,” I respond, not knowing what else to say at this point. “I didn’t really think this whole thing through. I was hoping that you would be able to give me answers about who I was, but obviously that’s not possible,” I say, letting out a frustrated breath.

  Looking back and forth between the two, I ask nervously, “Look, can I trust you guys with this whole situation? Or am I going to expect tomorrow’s headline to label me as a memory stealing psycho who’s literally lost her mind?”

  Trey is about to say something, but Matt cuts him off. “Of course, your secret is safe with us,” he says, challenging Trey to say something different.

  Trey closes his gaping mouth and nods his head, while he walks over to me, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

  “Supermodel, you got nothing to worry about. As long as you promise not to stay a stranger,” he says, squeezing my shoulder at the same time, causing me to wince.

  Man, this guy is as strong as he looks and he probably doesn’t know how to control it.

  I get a big smile on my face from what he’s said. Then I look at Matt and he’s also smiling with his head cocked to the side, with hooded eyes that are currently bearing deep down to my soul. With the sexy look on his face, I already know Matt is going to be my downfall, I can feel it.

  AS I’M RIDING in
the car on the way back to Seattle I wonder what I’m supposed to do from here on out. This day has been so overwhelming and I still haven’t gotten a concrete answer of what’s going on in my head.

  I do a lot of unnecessary thinking with three hours of road ahead of me. Hating that I didn’t get the answers I wanted, or hoped to get, I let the distraction of the landscape outside of my window try to give me something else to focus on, but it isn’t helping. I keep thinking back to chocolate brown eyes that stared at me as I drove away.

  We finally make it back to Seattle and the sun has already set, lighting up the city with its beautiful twinkling lights illuminating the surrounding buildings.

  As the driver pulls up and stops in front of my building I begin to brace myself for what is to come.

  I let myself up in the elevator and as I walk through the foyer I see a woman standing inside the living room talking on the phone. As she hears me enter she turns around and says into the phone, “Oh, she’s here. Yes, yes thank you for your help.”

  That voice sounds very familiar.

  It happens again, like at the hospital. My heart feels like it’s starting to race a hundred miles per hour and I’m desperately trying to get it under control, but I can’t. It dawns on me that this is the second voice that I heard in my state of darkness.

  She’s standing ahead of me, looking upset to see me, and I don’t understand why.

  She’s a beautiful young redhead, with her hair pinned up, and a slim, creamy complexioned body. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt, with a black-buttoned blazer jacket, and white dress shirt underneath it. She stands at about average height, but with a pair of red stilettos that give her an extra boost to make her look taller, as she walks to me. She makes a loud clicking sound against the marble floor with every step she takes. Stopping a few feet in front of me, she places her hand on her hip. “Where have you been? Don’t you know how worried you’ve had Bill?” she says in an angry, lecturing tone.

  Not wanting her to see my weakness, I stand there with my eyebrows arched in surprise at her. Since I’ve now pieced together the puzzle that was attaining that part of my memory, I don’t care what the hell she says. Even the sound of the way she is lecturing me confirms that she was the other half of the conversation, and I hate it. I had wanted to doubt myself about what I heard, hoping that it was just a dream, but reality has a way of kicking you in the ass.

  “Why should I care how Bill feels?” I say in a non-condescending tone. Right now I don’t give a shit what either of them thinks. I’m more concerned that my suspicions have pretty much been confirmed and I don’t know whether to feel relieved or worried.

  Her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open. Then she shuts it again, completely surprised by what I’ve said.

  I’m exhausted by the events of the day, so I ignore her reaction and walk towards the kitchen. I can hear her following me as both our heels go tap, tap, tap on the floor.

  She’s not going to get the damn point to leave me alone. I open the fridge, grabbing a water bottle from inside, opening it, and begin to drink from it. Right now, I’m wishing it were another one of those beers that Trey gave me. I’m pretty sure it would help shut out the world I’m desperately trying to avoid right now.

  “What do you mean you don’t care? You didn’t tell him that you were leaving and he thought something happened to you again, since you didn’t answer any of our phone calls.”

  So she tried calling me too? Now I’m really glad I’d decided to turn off my phone when I did. They both must have been calling me like crazy after that.

  I wouldn’t have wanted to hear her voice from the other end of a phone call. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted, not that I’m any better at this moment. I look at her and shrug my shoulders emphasizing I still don’t care, which I don’t. I’m trying to figure out what gives her the right to be in my apartment, besides being Bill’s fuck buddy.

  At that thought, I hear the ding of the elevator, and Bill’s voice booms through the apartment. “Where is she?”

  Shit, here comes that damn lecture I was really trying to avoid. First, I had to deal with seeing the fuck buddy, now I’m going to have to deal with Bill’s wrath.

  Rolling my eyes at his remark, I square my shoulders, and take a deep breath. I’m getting ready for the lecture to come because I’m pretty sure from that tone he’s going to give me one.

  “We’re in here,” the redhead yells in his direction.

  Placing the water on the counter, I brace my arms against the granite countertop as he walks in, and eyes me with a glare. Like I’m a child about to get reprimanded.

  “Where the hell were you!”

  Obviously he’s pissed, but I expected this.

  “I went out to explore the city, I thought maybe if I did the tourist thing it might help trigger my memory,” I lie and shrug my shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you inform me, or take a security guard with you? Do you know how out of my mind I’ve been today?” He actually looks concerned when he says it.

  “I forgot. Since you didn’t inform me how to contact a security guard I didn’t bother.”

  The redhead walks up next to me, glaring her hazel eyes at me. “You shouldn’t be going out on your own, and it’s not safe. What if you were attacked, what if the paparazzi had found you? Don’t you even think about the consequences or is stupidity the one thing you were able to recover when you lost your memory?”

  What the fuck? She’s got some balls to talk to me like that.

  Taking another deep breath to calm my raging blood, I ignore her and look at Bill. “Who the fuck is she?” I tilt my head at her, wanting him to shut her up.

  “Susan, calm down,” Bill commands her, giving me a sympathetic look.

  Waving her hand at me, she retorts, “How am I supposed to keep calm, when she’s acting like an idiot? She doesn’t think what her actions are doing to you. She was better off staying in a coma.”

  That’s when I snap. I don’t know what comes over me, but next thing I know I swing my arm back, and bring it forward punching her in the face. As she goes down, I jump on her ready to attack her again, fury running through my veins. I’m stopped when Bill wraps his arms around my waist picking me up like I’m a sack of potatoes. He carries me out of the kitchen, and then tosses me on the couch. While pointing his finger at me, he shouts, “Stay there! I have to go check on Susan.”

  I gawk at him as he goes back into the kitchen, leaving me in the living room, sitting there wondering what just came over me. I can’t believe I punched her!

  It did allow me to let out some of the frustration that was building up in me and I feel much better already. Maybe I should do it again and get all of it out.

  Then it dawns on me what I really did and I wonder. Is it normal for me to lose my temper? Do I do this often? Man, it really sucks not knowing all this stuff about myself.

  I hate that he’d rather be with her right now than with me. That thought fans the flames again, so I get up from the couch and head towards the master bathroom. As I enter I take off my heels, go over to the sink, and begin to run the cold water and I start to apply cold water to my face, letting the coldness calm me down a bit.

  Once I’m done, I turn off the faucet and stare at my reflection in the mirror, leaning against the counter with my arms. Who the hell is the girl staring right back me?

  In the corner of my eye, I see Bill’s reflection in the mirror. He’s standing against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and he looks like he doesn’t know whether to start lecturing me or to stay quiet.

  So I make it easier on both of us, and start. “Who is she?”

  “Her name is Susan, she’s my personal assistant.”

  Typical male, screwing his personal assistant, I guess it makes it easier. Obviously she takes her job really seriously; by the way she was pissed at me.

  “What the hell came over you, Abigail? Your attitude lately is nothing like you. It’s like you’re a w
hole different person.” That answers my earlier question about whether this is how I usually act.

  “How the hell am I supposed to answer you Bill, I don’t even know who I am!” I snarl at him, turning away from him to walk into my closet.

  “See what I mean? You’ve never raised your voice at anybody in your life, let alone punched somebody,” he says, following me.

  “Well, get over it Bill, because obviously this is the new me.”

  He’s still utterly shocked, not knowing what to say.

  “Besides your personal assistant, what is she really to you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Are you screwing her?” My voice sounds just as pissed as I feel.

  Eyebrows drawn and looking stunned at my accusation, he replies, “Susan? Why would you think I’d be having an affair with Susan?”

  This is where I’m baffled, what do I say? That I heard them talking about being each other’s fuck buddies while I was passed out in a coma? He’d never believe me. Plus this is something I have no proof that I actually heard. For all I know it could have been one of the crazy dreams that I’ve been having lately.

  He’s standing there with his arms still crossed, staring at me waiting for me to answer him.

  Crap.

  Shrugging my shoulders. “I don’t know, enlighten me? Don’t most hot shots like you usually have affairs with their P.A.s? Besides, the way she was acting, she obviously thinks she has some right to rip me one. There must be something going on.”

  He’s concentrating really hard on how to answer me, so I take his silence and continue on. “What the hell gives her the right to talk to me like that?”

  He shakes his head, and sighs. “I know she shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, but she was probably just as stressed about today as I was,” he says, standing there with his hands in his pockets.

  He’s still wearing his suit pants, but he’s taken off his jacket, leaving on this dress shirt with his tie loosened around his neck. His face looks strained as he studies me.

  “She’s going to be okay, by the way. She might have a black eye for the next couple of days. Just in case you are wondering.”