5. Valentina
VALENTINA
“Do you remember something?” Hope warms Diego’s words as he fixes me with a wide-eyed look.
It only worsens the twist of guilt when I shake my head. “No… not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” Setting aside the medical kit on the bedside table, he fixes me with a steady gaze. “Amber, anything you remember about those men could be important. No matter how small. There will be people out there who care about you, who are worried and desperate for you to come home.”
“I don’t remember anything like that,” I murmur, unable to look away from his eyes.
“I remember a little more about the crash. Snippets, sort of. Like being in a car and feeling all my clothes sticking to me. And this sensation…” My hand presses gently to my chest. “Of like… falling. And then someone in front of me with a gun, and I just remember this certainty, knowing that he was going to kill me.” The words catch in my throat, and suddenly, Diego’s hand covers the top of mine on my lap.
“Take your time,” he coaxes softly. “Slowly.”
“That’s… that’s all. But that urgent certainty was so strong, so I know whoever is behind them would just kill you for what you did.”
To my surprise, Diego smiles.
“You’re not… scared?” I ask.
“Oh, I am.” He nods quickly. “I’m kind of really fucked up about the fact that I shot two people and now there might be more of them super pissed that I killed them.”
“So why are you smiling?” On my next blink, the sharp pull at my temple isn’t as tight, and my next breath doesn’t send a shockwave of pain through my ribs. The painkillers are working.
“I was stressing that you would start to think I kidnapped you, or that I had done this to you. Y’know, in movies where the kidnapper plays with the victim’s head?
I would never do that, but I was scared you’d think I was the bad guy.
” He puffs out his cheeks. “But this is good! This is really good. Maybe it means your memory loss won’t be permanent. ”
“You’d be pretty twisted to hurt me like this and then play savior,” I say softly, turning my hand under his until we’re palm to palm. “But I—” A sudden sharp, rapid, distant knocking ends my words and our eyes meet while my heart suddenly pounds up into my throat. “Expecting anyone?”
“No.” Diego’s expression darkens. “Stay here.” He sweeps from the bed and vanishes from the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
Having seen nothing outside of this room and the attached bathroom, Diego’s apartment remains a mystery, but it seems small given how the subtle click of locks echo through the walls. Clicks are followed by a hinge creaking, and the low murmur of voices seeps through the walls.
Diego’s words are too low to decipher, but whoever he’s speaking to is like a foghorn.
“You don’t answer your phone, man!” comes the stranger’s voice. “I’ve been callin’ and callin’. Where have you been?”
Another murmur from Diego.
“Bullshit,” snaps the voice. “You don’t ignore calls from Tech, okay? Can I come in?”
Tech? What kind of name is Tech?
Curiosity and the prospect of having something to focus on other than my beaten body and fogged mind drive me painfully from the bed. I wobble once I’m on my feet, but other than a pull of nausea through my gut, the majority of my pain dulls to manageable levels.
Creeping forward and using the wall for support, I reach the door and strain to listen.
“I’m busy, Tech,” comes Diego’s muffled voice. “Can we talk later?”
“Nah, listen.” Tech sniffs deeply. “You turned me down last night but I wasn’t kidding when I said this was the deal of a lifetime, okay? Look, I know you’re not in the biz anymore but you need money, right? And I need legwork. You’d be doing me a solid.”
“No,” Diego states firmly. “I want nothing to do with it.”
“One night!” Tech whines. “You’d make more money in one night than you do in a month at that stupid bar.”
“Fuck you, Tech,” Diego remarks sharply. “I don’t shit on your life choices, so don’t fucking shit on mine.”
“Why, ‘cause you’re better than me now with your shitty little job?” Tech sneers, then immediately goes back to begging. “One night, Diego. Two max. Your money struggles are a thing of the past. You could even afford to decorate this shit hole.”
This Tech sounds like quite the charmer, but the longer he lingers, the higher my anxiety crawls. Pushing away from the door, I reach for the handle, but as my palm clasps the cold metal, I pause.
I look a state.
Going out there like this will raise far too many questions.
Turning, I approach the closet and pull open the door to find an array of shirts and slacks of all different sizes.
Most of them look like they’ve lived several lives before ending up in here.
I choose a simple black shirt and remove Diego’s T-shirt, then slip the long-sleeved shirt over my body and button it.
The sleeves hide all of my bruises and the shirt is long enough that it reaches my knees, keeping everything else hidden too. There’s not much I can do about my face and head, but I can’t stand listening to that scratchy voice insulting Diego any longer.
Sure, I barely know him, but he saved my life. The least I can do is chase away his guest.
“Just leave, Tech,” Diego mutters, clearly at the end of his polite tether.
“Trust me,” Tech whines as I finally open the door after ruffling my hair as much as pain allows. “I’m offering you gold here. I’m offering you a deal most would kill their grandmas over— What the fuck!?”
Reaching the front door is exhausting, but I fix a pleasant smile on my face and drape one arm over Diego’s shoulder for support as soon as I arrive.
“Are you coming back to bed?” I ask innocently.
The man at the door, Tech, stares at me with wide, dark eyes peering out from ashy skin. His mouth falls open, straining so much that his neck hollows and two thin, bony arms raise upward.
“Bed?” Tech chokes. “How the—who the—ain’t no fucking way you bagged someone like that?”
“Amber?” Diego’s eyes are just as wide, but it’s concern that swims in their depths when our eyes meet. “I was just—”
“Amber, huh?” Tech snorts.
“Mmhmm, and you interrupted us, so if you would kindly call again another day, that would be amazing.”
“Kindly?” Tech stumbles over himself and then leans back, taking a step down the stairs. “Diego, you sly fucking dog. Does Mindy know you’ve moved on?!”
“Tech… leave me alone, alright? I said no. The answer stays no.” With that, Diego slams the door in Tech’s face and the man’s dry, cracked laughter fills the air. Thankfully, it gradually fades into the distance and Diego sighs deeply, then wraps both his arms around me.
“What the hell are you doing out of bed?”
“I’m fine,” I insist with a light smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt. That man’s voice was driving me crazy. It honestly hurt worse than any of my injuries.”
“That’s because I doped you up on the highest painkillers I could find,” Diego replies, adjusting his grip around my waist and beginning to lead me back to the bedroom. “You can’t trust anything you’re feeling right now.”
“I can trust that scratchy voice.” Despite my surge of energy, it begins to fade quickly and by the time we reach the bedroom, I’m sagging into Diego’s arms.
He wastes no time and scoops me up bridal style, then carries me back to the bed and gently sets me back down. “No more getting up by yourself,” he scolds softly. “At least until you’ve got color back in your cheeks.”
“Not even to chase away people like that?”
Diego smiles again and my heart lifts. “Tech’s alright. Sometimes. He’s just like a starved dog with a bone. Once he gets an idea, he refuses to let it go.”
“His idea requires you?”
“Only because he hates doing the legwork for his own business.”
“And Mindy?” Bringing her up is mostly to get Diego’s reaction as he adjusts my pillows and eases me back against them.
“She’s been my ex for a long time,” he replies. “Not that anyone seems to understand that.”
So, he really is single. I presumed as much, given that having an injured woman in his apartment would be hard to explain to a girlfriend. My chest relaxes a fraction and I close my eyes.
“Oh, actually—” Opening them, I reach for Diego and catch his wrist to stop him from leaving. “I had an idea.”
“An idea?” He glances down at me and then smiles softly. “Shit. You look better in my shirts than I do.”
Another smile warms my lips. “Can you take me to the scene of the crash?”
The warmth fades from his face immediately. “What? Why? Wouldn’t that just make us stand out to whoever you’re scared of?”
“Maybe,” I admit softly. “But since I’m remembering pieces of that, it might be the perfect place to help trigger something important.”