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Six
Vivid Vixendidn’t need me for day to day operations. Even though I typically went in to the office every day, and made myself a part of pretty much everything, there was nothing exclusive to me that couldn’t wait.
And at this point… everything had to wait.
Because everything was fucked up.
My friends had been here. Chloe, Nubia, Blake, Kora, among others, had all taken their time out to offer company and comfort, but I wanted neither. In the last four days, I’d had maybe nine hours of sleep. Even my attempts at medically induced slumber had failed, and I had to believe it was a direct result of the series of bombs that had been dropped on my life.
The social media attack on my business.
The cyber-attack on my privacy.
Kellen’s attack on my spirit.
The attack against my security at home.
And thepièce de résistance– Kellen’s murder – which, taken with everything else, felt like an attack on my sanity. It was well-coordinated emotional warfare, the likes of which I’d never experienced, and wouldn’t wish on anybody. If this was a battle, I was losing.
Badly.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the alarm on my phone went off, disturbing the quiet of my suite atVeil.As hotels went,Veilwas best of the best – A Drake family property, unmatched in luxury, security, or what mattered most to me at the time:privacy.
Those damn photographers had been relentless.
I wasn’t a socialite, or some big star. As far as I was concerned, there was no reason for the paparazzi to care about me, and yet when I finally got to leave the police station, in two-day old clothes with uncombed hair, there they were.
“Monica did you kill your husband?!”
“Monica, is it true your company is going bankrupt?!”
“Monica, how do you feel about your dead husband’s baby with his mistress?!”
They didn’t care how it felt for me. Didn’t care that their questions stung, didn’t give a damn, in the slightest, that even though my last few years with Kellen hadn’t been something to be proud of, I wasstilla woman in mourning.
They just wanted their story.
And I certainly wasn’t going to help give them one.
It was too quiet here though.
I didn’t want the TV on, for fear I’d see my own face splashed across the screen, being dragged as a woman scorned and a murderer. Social media was amajorno-no. Chloe didn’t even have to forbid me this time – I already knew I needed to stay away.
There were no distractions here – only the opportunity for me to get lost in my thoughts. The only problem was, my thoughts were as riddled with Kellen’s slit throat as my sleep was, so neither state held the promise of peace. Darkness seemed to be winning the battle for my state of mind, but while I had the energy, I forced happy thoughts to the forefront of my mind.
Like the first time Kellen and I met. He had a work-study job in the student post office, and I’d lost my mailbox key. He struck up a ridiculous conversation about responsibility, which I quickly learned was a rehearsed, required speaking prompt any time a student misplaced their key. I teased him about it, and he invited me to a party in his dorm, even though we were both freshmen, and freshmen didn’t have parties in the dorm.
Butthatfreshman had a party in his dorm.
Somewhere, in the depths of an old photo storage account, there were pictures of that night. I grabbed my cell phone, but quickly remembered that it was a new one – I’d never set up anything on it. I went to the website using the mobile internet browser, and simply stared at the login page. I just couldn’t remember.
But Ididhave a locked note file with all those old passwords on my phone.
AtFive Star Tech.
And just like that, my decision was made.
I was going to get my phone.
