42. Matteo
Matteo
ICEHAWKS BITCHES
JOHNSON
WHERE THE FUCK IS IRVING???
IRVING
you called for me darling?
O’CONNOR
this should be good
MITCHEL
grab the popcorn Lewis
LEWIS
ON IT
JOHNSON
HE FUCKING CATFISHED ME
who the hell has enough time in their day to fucking catfish anyone????
LEWIS
HAHAHAHA
MITCHEL
I’m fucking cackling
O’CONNOR
oh boy
ASHFORD
please tell me Irving showed up to the date in a dress
LEWIS
*photo attachment*
pigtails and all
ASHFORD
HAHAHAHAHAHA
CRAWFORD
Irving I didn’t know you were so pretty
IRVING
it’s the bunnies, they do my skincare for me at night
LEWIS
*video attachment*
I also recorded Johnson’s reaction
MITCHEL
this is fucking gold HAHA
LEWIS
making T-shirts as we speak
JOHNSON
You’re fucking dead Irving
CRAWFORD
showed Coach the photos
the bastard cracked a smile and laughed
IRVING
see Johnson? told you you’d make history
Johnson has spent the last two hours staring daggers at Irving.
All the while, anytime Coach looks at Johnson, he bursts into a fit of laughter.
To say it’s been an interesting official first practice to mark the start of the season is an understatement, and not just because of Irving and Johnson’s shenanigans.
Coach blows his whistle, dismissing us and ending the practice before turning to Coach Foster. Her hair was slicked back today, and in turn, the session was grueling.
I’ve kept up training considering everything going on. Caleb, however, is a heaving mess, the last few weeks partying in Greece on full display. In fact, more than half the team is the same. Clearly a lot of them had overindulged during the time off.
Caleb skates past me, his shoulder bumping into mine along the way.
Rolling my eyes, I’m thankful I haven’t taken my helmet off yet so none of the guys can see the move. That is what has truly made this practice odd.
All day, Caleb and I were completely out of sync. We’re usually a well-oiled machine, the best first line defense on the team, a powerhouse and weapon on the ice, but today, that all went out the window when Caleb couldn’t stand to so much as look at me.
I’m glad for it, though. I can’t face him right now, either, not after everything I learned yesterday with Evie.
I understand I can’t force her to tell anyone—it would be catastrophic to do so.
But keeping this from my best friend? Keeping it from the person I know would never forgive me if he knew I was hiding such a despicable thing from him?
Put aside me being in love with his sister, this secret is friendship ruining.
And it’s eating me alive.
All night I lay awake, Evie in my arms, for once not woken by nightmares, sleeping peacefully for what I’m guessing is the first time in over a year.
Whereas I stared at the ceiling for hours, because anytime I closed my eyes, all I heard were the terrified screams of a little girl asking for help and no one answering the call.
When I did manage to fall asleep, I was plagued by a nightmare of me running as fast as I could down a dark hallway, trying to reach Evie as she screamed bloody murder, calling out my name for help. The hallway, though, no matter how fast I ran, continued to grow. And I never reached Evie in time.
I’m thankful I was able to keep my emotions under lock and key because this isn’t something I want Evie to feel as if she has to manage. My emotions on this topic are all my own. She has enough to juggle.
She seemed lighter this morning, though, as if in telling me—telling someone who actually cared about her—helped.
If suffering through this and carrying the weight of it all means that Evie’s emotional burdens are a little lighter for her to carry, I’m okay with that. I want to carry it for her, as much as she will offload onto me. I’ll be there every time with open arms ready to catch her.
At least one good thing came out of my sleepless night. While she was out cold, I went down a rabbit hole of research, trying to find not only the best therapist for her but the best form of therapy.
I never knew how complex it is, how varying it can be. There are different forms—cognitive, general, psychodynamic, and finally, EMDR.
Stumbling upon EMDR was like hitting gold.
Reading through survivor forums, a lot of victims expressed how general talking therapy wasn’t enough. So many sexual assault survivors experience dissociation similar to Evie, and the moment they began to talk about it, they shut down.
EMDR is the best practice to help people heal from traumatic and distressing experiences, especially for those who dissociate, as it recalls memories while stimulating the conscious mind, distracting it.
Then, the therapist can guide the brain to process the memories and emotions it locked away trying to protect itself.
EMDR is also less emotionally intense, as some survivors on the forums stated they felt retraumatized with the wrong therapist.
The more I researched EMDR, the more my belief in it being Evie’s best avenue became, and then my search for a good therapist who uses the practice for childhood sexual assault survivors began.
It wasn’t until the five-a.m. mark that I felt like I had found a solid candidate.
As Evie was in the shower getting ready for her shift at work, I called the therapist’s office as I made her daily latte, the art this time a simple heart. It felt appropriate considering everything that had transpired in the last forty-eight hours.
Dr. Elizabeth Stutton answered on the fifth ring and it took enormous amounts of pleading and numbers thrown out for her to listen.
I got a lecture about how she can’t cancel on patients and wouldn’t take more money, as it was unethical, but I think she heard how broken and panicked I was about Evie and took pity on me.
I’m fucking glad she did. She said she’d see Evie today after hours, would stay back to have a first session with her.
The team files into the locker room as I skate to the boards, lifting my gaze to the time. Two p.m.
Only three hours to go until they meet.
I’m going to have to keep myself busy at home.
Grayson skates over, stopping beside me, ice spraying my legs. “You good, Valenti?” he asks, his eyes wary as he assesses me. “You and Caleb were out of sync today. Is everything all right?”
It’s like Kieran’s ears perked up. Just a fraction away from stepping off the ice, he then turns, skating over and doing circles around us before taking off his helmet and grinning at me. “Finally kiss Evie?”
Grayson’s eyes widen, his head snapping back and forth between me and Ashford. “What the fuck have I missed?”
Kieran snorts. “Everything. You’re in your newly engaged bubble.”
At that, Grayson’s cheeks flush.
Kieran wags his brows. “So? Did you finally make a move? Confess your undying love? Kiss the fuck—”
I hold up a gloved hand. I’m glad he stops because I don’t want this conversation to make its way into the locker room where Caleb could overhear. “I get your point, Ashford.”
Grayson blows out a breath, placing his hands on his hips. “Shit, you and V?”
The fuck? Did I just…blush?
I look anywhere but at Kieran’s smug face. “Ah, yes. We sort of…kissed?”
“Why did that sound like a question?”
Sighing heavily, I mutter, “Fine, yes, we kissed…a lot.”
Kieran whoops. “Fuck yes! I fucking knew it would happen. The sexual tension between you two was intense.”
“Shit, I really am out of the loop, aren’t I?” Grayson rubs the nape of his neck.
Kieran claps his best friend on the shoulder. “It’s okay, stay in your bubble. I can update you when you resurface for air.” Leaning forward, he smiles at me. “Was it everything you hoped for?”
My lip twitches as I offer him just this one sliver of truth. “Everything…and more.”
Kieran’s smile widens further. “I’m so fucking happy for you, Valenti.”
“Shit, that’s why Caleb is pissed, isn’t it? He knows?” Grayson asks, moving his gaze toward the locker room.
“Yeah, he might have caught us in a compromising position in the elevator.”
Grayson’s jaw drops as Kieran throws back his head and laughs.
I point at both of them. “Not a fucking word of this, got it?”
Grayson makes the motion of zipping his mouth. “My lips are sealed. Just treat her right.”
“As if I’d do anything else,” I say, scoffing at his ludicrous statement.
Kieran wipes literal tears from the corners of his eyes. “Shitty that he found out that way, but I’m so happy for you, man.”
“Are you crying?” Grayson asks, searching his friend’s face.
Kieran frowns at him. “Valenti has been hiding his feelings for her for years. Let a man relish in the fact he grew some balls.”
“Hey,” I bark. “I’ve always had balls.”
“Now they’re just bigger,” he mutters.
Grayson pinches his nose. “It was such a nice moment until you started talking about his balls.”
Suddenly, Johnson bellows from the locker room, “I’m going to fucking murder you!”
Grayson drops his head and sighs. “I’m going to go intervene.”
“Good luck,” I say gruffly.
“Sounds like he found the present I left him,” Kieran says with a dark chuckle.
Grayson turns, walking backward down the corridor to the locker room. “You can come help me clean up the mess, then.”
Kieran gasps, holding his gloved hand to his lips. “Me? I’m not good in a crisis, Cap.”
I can’t help but laugh at the fucker, Grayson, too, even as he takes off down the tunnel as a crash rings out.
Side-eyeing Kieran, I drawl, “You really enjoy riling Johnson up, don’t you?”
He snorts. “Are you kidding? It’s like my Superbowl.”
Barking out a laugh, we enter the locker room in time to watch Grayson hold back a red-faced Johnson, his hands fisting a torn-down banner. Kieran, it seems, made a collage of Irving dressed up as Johnson’s date and Johnson’s face once he saw Irving at the restaurant.
I bite my lip to stop myself from joining the team and laughing. I seek out Caleb as I always do when shit like this goes down but his eyes are already on mine, narrowed.
My quiet laughter dies as I remember the secret I have to hide. Avoiding his gaze, I keep my head down, pass the chaos, and shower as quickly as I can.
As I’m packing up my duffle bag and Johnson’s rage has quieted to angry mutters under his breath, I hightail it out of the locker room, feeling Caleb’s eyes on the back of my neck like a searing burn.
I’ve almost made it to my car without incident when I hear his voice boom across the parking lot. “Valenti, wait up!”
Fuck.
I can’t lie to his face, I fucking can’t.
Turning, I’m hit by the indescribable need to blurt it out, to say that we need to help her, to tell him that someone hurt our girl. That someone needs to pay.
But instead, I just watch in silence as he jogs across the parking lot, molding my face into a mask of stone. His brows furrow as he stops.
“The hell is going on? I’m meant to be giving you the cold shoulder, not the other way around.”
I stare past his shoulder. I never thought there would be a day where I couldn’t look my best friend in the eye because I consciously lied to him.
“We’re good. Everything’s good.”
Caleb’s head rears back. “Valenti…what the fuck is going on?”
My skin feels like it’s on fire. I’ve never felt so fucking horrible in my life.
This is why Evie started avoiding us.
“Where have you been staying?” I ask, deflecting.
Caleb’s brows pull down further. “At Irving’s.”
“I think space right now is probably best,” I blurt.
Caleb steps forward. “Matteo, what’s going on? I know I’m mad at you, but it doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me.”
My heart pinches painfully, my throat burning with the need to scream that someone hurt the love of my life. Then I remember her face and the promise she made me keep and I have to physically force myself to look away from Caleb’s eyes, ones so similar to Evie’s.
Fuck, why is he such a good friend?
“Sorry, man, I have to go,” I say, my voice cracking slightly as I clap him on the shoulder.
I leave him speechless as I turn on my heel, jumping in my car. I tear out of the parking lot, not daring to look back in my rearview mirror. I know I’m not easing his worries, know that I’ve just made him mentally spiral, but I can’t lie to him.
And I can’t betray Evie.
But I’m not like Carter, Felicity, or Serena. I can’t let this go. I can’t sit on my ass and do nothing and let the man who did this to her get away with it.
With that in mind, I bring up my contacts on my dashboard and hit dial.
Paul answers on the third ring.
“Matteo, what can I do for you?” he says by way of greeting.
My heart hammers wildly as I say, “I need you to do a background check on any and all men who had access to the Ellington family home twenty years ago.”
The phone falls silent.
“Can you do it?” I ask, trying to keep the turmoil from my voice.
“Of course I can. Is there more I should know on the matter?”
Yes, someone hurt Evie and I can’t fix it for her.
“Can you hack into computers remotely?” I ask instead.
“Matteo, should I be concerned?”
Yes, probably.
Ignoring his question, I go on. “I don’t want you digging into anything personal. I just want to know if you’re able to find out if someone has child pornography on their computers or views that type of content online.”
His voice grows cold over the line. “Consider it done.”