Page 38 of Speechless
It took ten minutes to pack his rucksack. God only knew where Cain would spirit him off to, but he knew his brother’s penchant for the outdoors and physical exercise. They’d probably be camping on a mountain top for the next few nights, hunting deer and rabbits, and freezing their asses off when the sun went down.
Honestly, it sounded…ideal.
Rucksack on his shoulder, Connor grabbed a thick jacket from the closet and shut the door. Heading back downstairs, he found Cain loitering at the bottom, easy smile in place.
“Ready to head out?”
“Just need a minute.”
“Sure. Give me your shit, I’ll wait in the truck.” Cain snagged the rucksack, cruised out the front door with the nonchalance he’d been born with. “A minute, Connor, not ten!”
Chuckling, Connor flipped him off. He loved Cain. Might be bad to admit, but his youngest brother held his heart and his loyalty far more than Caleb. He was young and charming, but he hadn’t let life sour him. Connor thought of what Caleb had admitted, the heartbreak that came with it, and didn’t have to wonder whether Cain could have dealt with the situation better.
Cain dealt with everything better.
Hard hits shook him, no doubt. He had the O’Malley temper, they all did. But hard knocks and the shit life threw at him didn’t stick, didn’t change who he was at the core.
Connor approached the living room, steeling himself against the punch he always took seeing Jenna in her present state. A fist to the jaw, imprintingfailureinto flesh.
The curtains were open, as were the windows. Cool, fresh air swept inside alongside the afternoon light. Winter was nearly on them, so close he could taste it. The TV was on, some crime drama bleating away. Murder mystery, he thought, and wondered if Jenna should be watching such things right now.
He found the remote, switched the programs over until tinned laughter filled the room. Maybe it would entertain Jenna, if she could hear it through the dense walls keeping her caged.
The couch was empty. Pillows scattered along the leather, the duvet draped half-on, half-off as though she’d been under it and crawled out. The glass of juice he’d put out for her remained on the coffee table, condensation dripping down the sides into a puddle on the wood. As full as it had been when he brought it.
Untouched, her soup was covered in skin. The fruit and biscuits, hunks of cheese and chocolate were all exactly positioned as he’d left them.
If she hadn’t eaten by the time he returned, he was going to get mad. He hated the idea of using the feeding tube on her, but she really wasn’t giving him any fucking choice. What little bits of food and fluid he was getting into her wasn’t enough.
She watched him from the corner.
Time ticking down, he walked over to her and sat down within touching distance. Hoping she’d take the plunge and reach out for him. He missed her in ways he couldn’t describe; how she tucked her hand into his, the light in her eyes, the way she talked to him without saying a word.
“I wanted to say goodbye, Jenna.”
She blinked slowly, whether in acknowledgement or protest, he didn’t know. The hollow cast around her eyes made her look like the wraith Caleb once called her. While she was clean, cared for, she wasn’t healthy. In his opinion, she looked worse than the first time he laid eyes on her.
“Sarah will stay here with you. If you need anything, you ask her. She’ll know, likely before you do, because that’s what she does best.” Connor sighed and pressed his fingers to his eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve let you down, baby. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to find a way to make this right.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. At least she was listening to him, could hear him. For days, she’d seemed oblivious to his presence at times, spiraling in the mire of her demons.
“I miss you,” he whispered.
He stretched over, feathered his fingers over her downy hair, then pushed to his feet. There was so much to say, yet nothing more would come. He was tired of talking to himself, of expressing his feelings, without a flicker of response. Just because he was aware it wasn’t her fault didn’t alleviate the frustration.
The resignation.
Walking away hammered the nails into his coffin. Every step was leaden, even as rocks tumbled off his shoulders. How did someone cope with this? How did they excuse feeling profound relief at leaving someone they loved, when their heart crumbled to ash?
Cain waited in the truck as promised. Engine running, heaters on, the local radio station on low. “Got everything you need?”
“Fuck knows. Depends where we’re going, I guess.”
The cab door shut as Connor settled into the deep seat, and Cain floored the massive truck into action before he got his belt on. “Calm and quiet were the orders, brother.”
“Ah hell, we’re headed for a strip joint?”
Cain’s laugh boomed. “No, more’s the pity. Sexy nurse got jab-happy with that finger of hers, so orders have been followed to the letter. Time we got those panties of yours unknotted, big brother, and that clever brain back into working order.”