32. Valencia
32
Valencia
F or a moment, I debated on telling the guard to lock the door and keep me here. What awaited me outside of my holding cell was probably worse than being here. It had been almost twenty hours since I was arrested, and I knew the media was probably having a field day with my situation.
They processed my release, giving back everything I had on me, including my busted-up phone that was dead, before letting me out. Noemi and Easton were waiting for me, and I had the urge to cry when they came up to me. Noemi hesitated before squeezing me in her arms, telling me how furious they were that I had been arrested. Then Easton gave me a side hug, guiding me to the nearest door and out of the station.
“How are you feeling?” Noemi asked, inspecting my face and then looking down at my hand, which was swollen and bruised.
“I feel like I’m in the twilight zone,” I said, following them to the car.
“Should we head to a doctor?” Easton asked, looking over his shoulder at me.
“I think it’s all superficial,” I said, enjoying the morning sunlight.
“Well, we can get someone to check on you immediately if we need to,” Easton said, unlocking the car.
“I think I’m fine.” I was getting tired.
“Ok, we can worry about it later,” he said, opening the back door for me.
“Ok, good,” I said, wanting nothing more than to sleep, since sleeping in jail was impossible.
“Are you hungry?” Noemi asked.
“Starving, but I wanna go home,” I said, climbing into the backseat. “I need a shower and some sleep.”
“There will probably be more reporters there,” Easton said, as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“How about you come home with us,” Noemi suggested. “I can give you some clothes, you can eat and rest.”
“Later tonight we can swing by your home and get some stuff for you,” he said, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s probably for the best if you stay away from your apartment for a bit.”
I wanted to argue, throw a tantrum, just to go hole up in my apartment and wait for all of this to pass.
“Ok,” I said softly, looking out the window. “But do you think it’s smart for an employee to be staying at your house?”
“Vincent is out of town till tomorrow,” Easton said, like he had already thought of that.
“Ok,” I said, just wanting to fall asleep so I didn’t have to think about anything.
Easton parked in a garage right by the elevators. We took the elevator to the penthouse and when the doors opened, I realized how the other half lived. The view was stunning and while it was still a little opulent, it felt homey.
Noemi led me to a guest bedroom that also had a stunning view with an attached bathroom that was probably the size of my entire home. The bath was huge and had jets. The shower was just as big with multiple shower heads. I avoided the mirror because I wasn’t quite ready to see how bad I looked.
“I have everything stocked in here, along with hair masks, face masks and any skin care you might need,” she said, opening a few drawers to show me. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you, but let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, Noemi, you're the best,” I said, exhaustion hitting me hard.
“Of course, get washed up,” she said, walking out.
She stopped at the door. “Should I call them?”
We had never really discussed my relationship with the guys even though I was a hundred percent sure she knew.
I shook my head. “They need to stay far away from me. If shit hits the fan, it’s best if we all keep to ourselves.”
“Valencia, at least tell them you’re ok and let them decide what they want to do.” She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more.
“Maybe later,” I said, turning around, hoping she got the hint.
I turned the shower on, stripping out of my dirty clothes and stepping into the hot spray. My eyes watered as a sob threatened to escape. I couldn’t cry now because if I did, I might not stop and all I wanted was sleep.
I washed my hair, and put on a hair mask she had in here. I let that sit while I washed my body thoroughly with my good hand, careful of my tender ribs. One wash wasn’t enough and not even two made me feel better. My skin was raw by the time I was satisfied. I got out, wrapping my hair in a towel, cringing when I realized my curls were going to be a mess, but honestly who cared at this point.
I dried off, and lotioned up before I went to see what clothes she had left. A pair of leggings, shorts and lounge pants were left on the bed with matching tops. I took the black lounge pants with a matching top. They were almost a perfect fit and I was grateful we had similar body shapes.
I climbed in the bed, groaning at how soft it was. The sheets were soft and the bed practically hugged me. I sighed as I hugged a pillow, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. All I needed was sleep and then maybe I would be able to face the shitstorm that was brewing. Maybe I would call the guys. I missed them, but a part of me wondered if it was easier to stay away and let us just fall apart.
Everything hurt when I woke up. My face was sore, my hand was throbbing and my chest felt like I had something sitting on it. Dread. I wanted to continue sleeping, my body begged me to close my eyes and give myself another moment of peace.
Except, no matter how long I slept, I couldn't run from my problems. The room was bathed in orange light and the clock on the nightstand told me it was five-thirty in the evening. I hugged a pillow enjoying the last rays of the sun, thinking about what I had to do.
1. Figure out how much the media knew.
2. Take painkillers and eat.
3. Do some damage control.
4. Call my boss to see if I still had a job.
5. Find out where I could either find a pig farm or rent an excavator to bury the body.
6. Get a new identity
I groaned, rolling over on my back, worried about my mental health since I was contemplating murder. Someone fucked with my life, a life I had carefully constructed and worked so hard for that was now being torn down.
My lip trembled, the pressure in my chest grew. I wanted to cry, and throw a fit because it wasn't fair. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the covers off, getting out of bed. I looked through my bag for my laptop, opened it and looked at the first gossip magazine I could find. There was a small piece about me, thankfully, with a good picture.
Two other websites had the same thing, but each article said more information was coming. I needed to know what information that was, then I could figure out what to do. Next was food.
I went to the bathroom to do my business. While I washed my hands, I inspected my swollen hand with split knuckles. I didn’t want to look up and see what I looked like. Everything hurt and I knew it was going to be bad.
Fucking slut, can’t make money the hard way like normal people do. Gotta have sex and bag two hockey players for the life she wants.
Fuck him for thinking he knew anything about me. I looked up, flinching from the state of my face. It was pretty bad, with a black eye and a bruise on my chin too. My ribs hurt as I lifted my shirt to see a bruised side. It was dark and angry, making me think that maybe I did need to see a doctor.
Taking a deep breath, nothing hurt, so maybe it wasn't that bad. That might have to be number three on my list before damage control. Lowering my shirt, I walked out in search of food. The moment I stepped out of the hallway, Noemi and Easton stopped talking. It smelled amazing. My stomach immediately complained and my mouth watered.
“Hey,” Noemi said, getting up from the sofa, opening her arms.
“Hey,” I said, walking into them, holding onto her tightly.
My eyes watered
“How did you sleep? How do you feel?” Easton asked, standing right next to us.
“I knocked out and I think I’m ok,” I said, not wanting to talk because I was on the verge of crying again.
“You hungry?” Noemi pulled away, inspecting me.
Her jaw clenched looking over my face.
“Starving,” I said, looking away.
“Great, I have some caldo de res on the stove,” she said, walking towards the kitchen.
“Caldo sounds amazing,” I said, following Noemi.
“Oh no, girl, go sit on the sofa,” she said, waving me away. “Get a blanket and relax. I’ll bring a TV tray.”
I looked back at the beautiful beige sofa.
“Uh, yeah I don’t think that is a good idea,” I said, as I pictured dropping my whole bowl of soup on the sofa. “Wait, did you say TV tray? Do you rich people have those? Is it made of gold?”
Easton laughed. “They are platinum.”
I chuckled as I sat down and Easton put a blanket on my lap.
“You’re going to need to talk to my friend soon. I know that's the last thing you want to think about, but the sooner you talk to a lawyer, the better,” he said, getting up and bringing me a tray. “He might be able to help you with a lawsuit about going after whoever did this to you.”
“Ok, give me his number and I’ll call him tomorrow,” I sighed.
“I also informed your boss you had gotten hurt,” he said, looking a bit sheepish. “I knew you had to work that night. I told him we were together and you had an accident. Oh, and that your phone broke.”
“Thank you.” Relief that maybe I might still have a job if they hadn’t caught wind of my story flooded through me. “Hopefully, I still have a job.”
“I’m so sorry, Val,” he said, sitting on the sofa next to me. “Hunter called me earlier too.”
I stilled, wondering what he knew. Why he would be reaching out? My mind instantly went to the worst-case scenario, and I didn’t want to deal with what he had to say.
I grimaced. “Thanks. I’ll call him when I get a chance.”
“He sounded worried,” Easton said, pulling out his phone. “Ro was with him too.”
“Let me eat and I’ll deal with them afterward, ok?” I pressed my lips together, feeling overwhelmed.
“Ok, I just want to let you know,” he sighed. “They might be able to help.”
I nodded, not sure what to say or tell him. We hadn’t talked in a few days and if the reporters had finally figured out they were the hockey players I was sleeping with. I didn’t know if they were going to want to speak to me once this broke out. I’m surprised PR hadn’t caught wind of it.
“Here you go.” Noemi set down the soup on a regular wooden TV tray. “Let me get some tortillas and what would you like to drink?”
“Can’t have caldo without a coke,” I said, breathing in the steam that smelled so fucking good. “It smells delicious, it’s been so long since I have had homemade caldo.”
“It’s a staple for us during the winter,” she said, as she walked into the kitchen. “This and albondigas.”
“Oh my god, let me know when I can move in,” I said, taking a sip and it was so fucking good. “I could get used to living in the penthouse and never leave.”
“Val,” Easton said, as Noemi came back to the living room looking concerned.
“It’s ok. That was too soon,” I said, eating and hoping they would drop it.
It was silent for a moment before they turned the TV on and they let me be. The meal was great and as much as I wanted to curl up and continue watching TV with them, I needed to go home. I took my dishes to the sink, washing them as Noemi tried to shoo me away, even though my hand hurt like hell.
“It’s the least I can do before I leave,” I said, washing the rest of the dishes because I might as well.
“You can stay here as long as you need,” she said, drying the dishes.
“I need clothes. and I just need my home while I figure out what the hell I’m going to do,” I said, rinsing the last dish.
“Ok, but if it’s too much you have a room here,” she said, as I turned off the water.
“Thank you,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you for everything.”
“Of course, I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” she sighed.
“It’s ok, I would have punched him if you were there or not, plus only one of us needed to go to jail,” I said, as we pulled away. “Vincent might never have forgiven me if I had let you get arrested.”
“He should know I could get myself into jail. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she chuckled.
“I’m going to get changed and then call an Uber,” I chuckled.
“We can drive you and please, take the lounge set, it looks good on you,” she said. “Easton, we gotta take Vally home.”
I shook my head as I walked to get my things, and I was totally going to keep this lounge set. Once I grabbed my things, they drove me to my apartment—thankfully no reporters were in sight—they insisted on walking me up to my apartment.
I opened the door realizing the light was on and I hadn’t left it like that, making me freeze in the doorway. My apartment was destroyed, things were turned over, books were on the floor and all my cabinets in my kitchen were open. I wanted to burst out in tears. Could anything else go wrong?
“Hold up, we?—”
I walked into my apartment like an idiot, most of my equipment was here, and I needed to see if everything else was still here. Footsteps came out of my room and there stood Hunter and Ro with bags in their hands.
“What happened? Thank god you’re ok.” Ro stepped towards me and I instantly stepped back, my mind getting the better of me.
“We came here to check on you earlier and you weren’t here. We found the apartment like this,” Hunter said, holding his hands up. “We wanted to come back and clean up before you had to see the mess.”
I looked between them, not knowing what to think when I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to them, so fucking tired of being strong. I needed them even if this might be the last time we were together.