Heart Unheard Page 12

  “You can still ski.” Brent made hand motions to go with his words, and Scott understood.

  “I know, but it won’t be the same. What about you? Do you ski?”

  Brent nodded. “I’m very good.” He reached for the damn pad again. So is my mom. She and I used to go. Mom was a real snow bunny when she was young. We have pictures of her. I also like snowmobiling. It’s fun zooming over the snow.

  “Me too. Dad has one in the garage, so when we get snow, it’s a blast. He has a trailer too, and we’d take it when we went north. There are lots of trails up there. Maybe we could go this winter.”

  Trevor and James would probably love it too. James is a real speed demon, at least according to Trevor. I doubt he’d go skiing, but we’d all have fun. It was hot as all hell outside and felt like the heat was building in to stay for a while, so it was nice to talk about something cool.

  “Maybe we could all go?” Scott said. “It would be nice to plan something and have a trip to look forward to. Everything is so immediate right now. I had a lot of plans about getting an apartment, maybe with Lee. I was going to try to get a new car. I wanted to travel a little. My mom would freak, but I wanted to get a motorcycle like Trevor’s and travel around the country. All that is different now.”

  It doesn’t have to be, Brent wrote.

  Scott grabbed the pad and put it behind his back. “Right. Without the fucking pad, you can’t talk to me. No one can. It’s the only way anyone has to communicate with me, and it’s not going to change a whole hell of a lot. If I’m alone, I have to wear a fucking sign that says I’m deaf so please have pity on me and write down what you want to say. Even when I learn to sign, I’ll only be able to use it with people who can sign. If you want to be part of my life, be prepared to spend it translating for me.” Scott rolled his eyes. “That sucks, Brent. It really does. I don’t want that for you, and I don’t want to have to wait to learn what anyone is saying.”

  Brent reached for the pad, but Scott pushed it farther away. He tried to get it, but Scott sat in his way, so Brent reached around him and ran his hands over his side.

  “That’s not fair!” Scott cried, through peals of laughter. “I’m going to be sore.” Brent pulled back, making tickling motions, and Scott handed him the pad. “You’re mean.”

  “I am not.” He leaned forward to capture Scott’s lips. He’d been doing a lot of talking lately, and Brent was starting to think he could put those sweet lips to another use. Scott didn’t seem to mind as he wound his arms around Brent’s neck. He held Scott closer and forgot about his worries and what happened at the restaurant.

  “You can make me forget my own name most of the time,” Scott told him.

  Brent didn’t respond but thought, Mission accomplished. He smiled, cupping Scott’s cheeks in his hands, guiding him into another kiss. Brent would have loved to stay just like this forever, sucking lightly on Scott’s lower lip, listening to the soft, involuntary sounds he made. Brent was willing to bet that Scott had no idea he was making them, and that made it all the more thrilling. It told Brent just how happy and excited he was making Scott. That thought sent his own excitement through the roof, and he had to restrain himself from pressing Scott back into the sofa, stripping him down, and tasting him all over. His willpower wavered as their kiss deepened, Brent slipping his hand under Scott’s shirt, the smooth, hot skin and muscles rippling under it. Damn, Scott was beautiful, and Brent didn’t need to see him to know that. He could feel it as he stroked upward and his thumb located a pert nipple, teasing it as Scott quivered under him. There was nothing in this world more exciting to Brent than a man shaking in unbridled passion.

  “You’re stunning,” Brent said. “I know you can’t hear me, but you make me want you.” He reached for Scott’s belt and unfastened it as Scott gulped and stilled.

  Brent’s phone vibrated, and he stilled as well. He was coming to hate that thing. Brent knew he should have left the damn thing off, but now it vibrated like hell on the wooden top.

  Scott turned toward where Brent was looking, and the excitement left him in an instant. “You should get that.” He sat up as Brent reached for the phone, then stared out the window as Brent answered it.

  “Brent, it’s Darryl. I’m sorry to bother you, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I needed to talk to you. I was at Wilson’s today.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Brent tried not to be short with him. Whatever was bothering Darryl had him in a tizzy, and Darryl was never like that. Methodical and patient, not jittery and uptight. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I know you were calling around and put the word out about the car that hit Scott. Did you call Wilson’s and ask them if they had a car like that?” Darryl asked tentatively.

  “Of course.” Brent rolled his eyes. “They were one of the first places I called after Trevor’s other garages. Why?”

  “Because when I was there, I looked into the service garage and saw a red Malibu about the right year. It was in one of the bays and looked like it was being taken apart to start repair. It had definitely been in a front-end collision. I don’t know when it came in or anything, but I thought you would want to know.”

  Brent blinked a few times to try to take this in. “Thanks. But how did you know I was making calls?”

  “Lee heard you.” Darryl paused. “You made the kid cry with what you’re doing to help Scott. So when I went… I wasn’t looking or expecting to see the car. I was just seeing what they were working on and….”

  “I understand that. Professional curiosity.” Brent sat on the edge of the sofa, his body filling with tension by the second. He had called Wilson’s, and the serviceman who answered the phone had said they hadn’t had a car like that. “What’s your impression of when the car came in?”

  “I’ve known Brian Gunderson for a long time, and he said it’s been sitting in the back for a week or more. I tried not to make a big deal about it, but if they said they didn’t have that kind of car, someone lied. And I like Scott, and he deserves to find out who did this to him.” The anger coming through Darryl’s voice was palpable. “Brain said they had been holding it in the back, waiting for the owner to make a decision on the repairs. He said the guy wasn’t insured or wasn’t going through his insurance. I was going to tell you in the morning, but thought that it might be better to call you tonight.”

  Brent nodded to himself, his heart racing a mile a second. Scott turned, and Brent smiled brightly at him, taking his hand as Darryl continued talking.

  “That son of a bitch lied to me,” Brent growled, seconds later, wishing he’d taken down the name of the guy he’d spoken with. Brent tried to clear his head and think. He’d written a bunch of useless stuff while he’d been on the phone, but there was no way to discern if he’d…. “Shit….” Brent groaned. “I talked to Howard when I called.”

  “Grinnel is a weasel,” Darryl commented, and Brent wished he could argue with him. He should have been more careful about who he’d talked to, but the thought of someone lying to him hadn’t crossed his mind. “I used to work with him when I was at Ashendorf’s, and he was a slimy bastard then. What do you want me to do?”

  “Right now, nothing. Don’t tell anyone else what you saw. I need some time to think and to talk with Scott. We don’t even know if this is the car that hit him, but it seems strange that they would lie to me about it unless they had something to hide.” Brent’s head ached. “I wish to fuck I could get a look at that car.”

  Darryl was silent for a few heartbeats. “Maybe you can.”

  “How?” Brent asked right away.

  “Like I said, Gunderson is a good friend. His wife and my wife are in the same garden club, and we took a vacation together a few years ago. I can ask him if he can let us in the garage to take a look at it. Let me make a call and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks.” Brent hung up and turned to Scott, who was chewing on his lower lip. He tapped him on the shoulder.

  “
What’s going on?” Scott was so nervous, he seemed like he was going to fly apart. “I can feel something is wrong.”

  Brent shifted closer to him and reached for the pad, then hesitated before he started to write. Scott read the note over his shoulder, growing paler by the second. That was Darryl. I had asked him to get some parts from Wilson’s today. He says he saw a Malibu, red, between the years the police told us, in one of the bays. I had called them and they lied to me about it.

  “Should we call the police?”

  Brent shrugged and then wrote. We don’t know if this is the car. But the bastards lied to me, so someone has something to hide. His phone rang, and he snatched it up. “Yeah, Darryl?”

  “Brian has a key and says he’ll meet you there. It seems he’s been wondering what Howard is up to. Anyway, he’ll meet you there in half an hour.”

  “Thanks. Tell him I’ll be there.” Brent had to know if this was the car, and this seemed like the best way to do it. After that, he could call the police and they could take it from there. Brent hung up and explained what was happening, as best he could, to Scott.

  “I’m going with you,” Scott said.

  Brent shook his head, adamant. “No!”

  “I am going.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest. “If this is the car that hit me, I want to see it. I need to.” The unmistakable pain and steel in his voice made Brent waver.

  Brent grabbed the notepad. I don’t want you in any danger. God, the thought of anything happening to Scott had Brent’s stomach roiling.

  “We’re going to a garage to look at a car. Nothing more. No one else is going to be there.” Scott leaned forward. “I’m not helpless.” The last was said as a challenge.

  Brent closed his eyes and nodded once. It was all he could do. He didn’t care that they were only going to a garage to look at a car. This could be the car that had hit him, and it could very well lead them to the person who had hurt Scott. But Brent’s belly clenched as he thought of Scott going along. Yet he couldn’t realistically tell him no. Scott had the right to make his own decisions.

  “Then when do we go?”

  “Now.” Brent stood and got his keys. He waited for Scott, and they left the apartment. Brent locked the door and they walked down to his car.

  The drive to Wilson’s didn’t take very long, and there was a single car with a light on inside parked next to the main door. Brent pulled up next to it and they got out to meet Brian.

  “Thank you for doing this.”

  Brian nodded. “I figured it was either you or the police. If you truly believe this is the car you’re looking for, then you do what you need to. I’m only trying to prevent unwanted attention to the business.”

  “Of course.” Brent turned to Scott and made introductions. “Can we see it?”

  Brian unlocked the door and they went inside, through the reception and waiting area, to the shop floor. He followed Brian as they approached a red Malibu. The car’s front end was a mess. It had been in a severe accident and seemed barely driveable. There were scrapes and pieces of paint on it. Brent stepped closer, pulling out his phone to use it as a light for a closer look.

  “There are dark blue paint scrapes.” The color of Scott’s car. “Have you started work?”

  “Howard got it brought in, and it’s his job to complete the work. I think he’s ordered parts.” Brian motioned and took him off to the side. “This is the scrap room, and there’s what he’s removed so far.”

  Brent checked out the parts and turned to Scott, who leaned against the doorframe, holding it to stay upright.

  “This is it,” Scott breathed, and Brent had to agree. It was likely.

  “I need to call the police.”

  “I will,” Brian offered. “I’ll do it after you leave, on suspicion that a car we are working on has been party to an accident that we don’t think has been reported. I’ll just say I was working late. It’s no problem. Howard said that it was his cousin’s car and that it had been hit a while ago.”

  Brent turned to Scott, pulled out the pad from his pocket, and wrote him a quick note to explain.

  “Can you get the name?” Brent asked, and Brian pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to him. Brent shoved it in his pocket, jotted down the license plate details, and they left the service area. “I appreciate the help. You have to call this in, or I will, and that won’t be good.”

  “Nope. I’ll call it in. That way we’re cooperating with the police.” Brian groaned. “So help me, if that ass Howard has brought some of his shit here, I’m going to kill him and then turn him over to my uncle so he can bring him back and kill the shithead again.”

  “Your uncle?”

  “Yeah.” Brian sighed. “Old man Wilson is my uncle. He wants me to take over for him eventually, but with this kind of trouble showing up, there isn’t going to be shit-all to take over. I told Uncle Rob to can Howard, but my uncle is loyal to his people. Now look what that got him.”

  “I understand, and we don’t want to cause any trouble for you, only the guy who hit Scott and anyone who tried to cover it up.” Hell, Brent was so angry, he could hardly see straight.

  “You better go, and I’ll make that call.” Brian already had his phone out, so Brent and Scott headed to the main entrance. Brent listened as Brian talked to the police. The night was relatively quiet, with only a few cars passing by. He and Scott got into his car, and Brent turned to Scott once the door was closed.

  Scott was shaking, head down. “That was the car that hit me.”

  Brent nodded and took Scott’s hand. He needed to know he was going to be all right. “I think so.” He grabbed the pad from his pocket. There’s nothing to fear here. It’s just a car. It can’t hurt you now. He had a likely name in his pocket, but he didn’t want to show it to Scott. Not yet, because there was the possibility that this wasn’t the car. The police would need to figure that out.

  “Okay.” Scott sank into the seat, and Brent pulled out of the parking area. He headed for Scott’s parents’ house, thinking it was probably best if he took him home. Plus they needed to know what was going on.

  “We aren’t going back to your apartment?” Scott watched out the side window and didn’t seem angry enough to challenge him, so he took Scott home, pulling into the drive.

  Carolyn rushed out of the house, and Scott got out of the car. Brent hurried around and walked with him up to the front door, where Scott fell into her arms. “Brent found the car, Mom.” Scott held her, and Brent wished it was him Scott was clinging to. “He and one of the guys at work.”

  She looked over Scott’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  “Fairly. The police have been called. One of the garage managers is doing that as we speak. I also have the license number and the name of the owner. I haven’t told Scott yet, because I thought it best that I bring him home.”

  “But he saw the car?”

  Brent nodded and followed them inside, closing the door behind him. Scott settled on the sofa, and Brent filled Carolyn and Reggie in on what they’d found. He sat next to Scott, holding his hand, Scott clutching his in return. Brent would do anything to make this pain go away for Scott. Hell, he’d take it on a dozen times over if it meant seeing one of Scott’s smiles.

  “If it’s the car, they’ll find out who owns it, and that should lead them to who hit Scott,” Reggie said, gently holding Carolyn’s hand.

  “Well.” Brent reached into his pocket to hold the slip of paper in his fist. “My friend gave me the name of the owner. But I don’t know what we should do with it until we know if it’s the car.” He held his breath. If Scott or his folks asked for it, he’d give it to them, but he hoped they didn’t. Not yet.

  Reggie shook his head. “I don’t want to know. If it’s someone I’ve heard of or an acquaintance, I’d be tempted to go over and tear their lungs out.” He pounded the arm of his chair. “It’s best if I don’t even know. Does he?”

  “No.” Brent leaned into Sco
tt, and then all of them caught Scott up on the conversation they’d been having. Brent admitted to having the name, but Scott pulled back, not wanting to know either.

  “I’ll let the police tell me. Then I’ll know for sure.” Scott stood and hugged both his parents before kissing Brent good night.

  Brent left the house and drove home to his complex. Once he got there, Brent went up to his place and inside. Then, and only then, did he hazard a peek at the name on the paper.

  Chapter 6

  THREE DAYS of waiting and hoping….

  His dad called the police and talked to the officer in charge of the investigation. They had gotten the call about the car and had been down to check into it. Samples of the paint from the car had been taken, and they were waiting for tests to prove it was the one that hit him. That’s all they told them, and Scott was on pins and needles.

  He checked his watch and went to the front window to look for Brent. It was Saturday afternoon and Scott was going to go to the garage for the rest of the day. He was hoping to be able to get to work a little and learn his way around the garage once again.

  Brent pulled into the drive, and Scott said goodbye to his mother and rushed out to the car.

  “Do you think this is going to be weird, you know, because of us?” Scott asked as he fastened his seat belt.

  Brent simply shook his head as he backed out of the drive. The times when they were in the car were some of the hardest. Conversations were one-way. Scott could talk, but Brent couldn’t communicate much in return. His hands were busy, so yes and no answers were about the limit.

  “It… will… be… fine…,” Brent said to him slowly.

  “I suppose. You have your work to do, and so will I.” Scott shared a smile with Brent, excited to be doing something normal, even for a few hours. He hoped that he could go back to work full-time the following week, but he had to figure out how he was going to make that happen. He had energy and the soreness was largely gone. It was time. But he was nervous too. What if he wasn’t able to do his job any longer? That thought was always in the back of his mind. Scott knew he could figure out ways to help the guys communicate with him, but what about customers? “I need to relax and stop thinking about all this stuff in my head over and over.”