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“What's wrong with him?” Valarian asks, looking around at the mess. I can tell that now he’s found his father, he’s on the verge of a meltdown as he takes in all the mess and the state of him.
“How about I call Papa, and you stay with him for the night while I look after daddy, okay?” I ask him as he stands there, trembling and looking terrified. His eyes tear up, and he glances over at his father on the floor.
His entire body is now shaking, and he nods his head before stepping into the bathroom and leaning down to shake his father's shoulder.
“Dad?” I hear him murmur, and his father groans but doesn’t wake. Valarian leans down and kisses his cheek. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call Kalen, who immediately agrees to come get Valarian.
Once he picks up my son, I walk back into the house before slowly beginning to clean the place. I’m furious that he let it get this way, knowing full well what his son is like. The place is absolutely trashed and stinks like a brewery. After sweeping up the glass and mopping the floor, I walk back into the bathroom. Now that the hall is clear of glass, I drag him to his room. It takes me 20 minutes to lift him onto the bed. He groans and mumbles but doesn’t wake up, and by the time I’m done, I am absolutely livid.
I drive all the way back to my hotel, fuming, and snatch the letter and the keys from his mother’s storage out of the safe before driving back. Valen has no excuse for breaking his son's heart as he did. Fair enough, he was pissed at me, but Valarian didn't deserve to see him like that. I also blame myself for bringing our son here.
An hour later, I’ve found all the liquor bottles in the place and have started tipping them down the drain when a hungover Valen stumbles out of the room, bumping into the TV unit and clutching his head in his hands. Ignoring him, I continue pouring the bottles down the sink when he rubs his eyes.
“Everly?” he questions, seeming confused before his eyes widen. “What day is it?”
“Monday. You were supposed to pick Valarian up,” I say, trying to keep the anger out of my tone. He mutters, then groans and clutches his hair, banging on the side of his head with his fists.
“Why are you here?” he asks, staggering to the kitchen counter before falling onto a stool. He drops his head onto his arms.
“Did you not hear me? You were supposed to pick him up, but instead, we come here and find you passed out on the floor in the bathroom. All because Valarian begged me to bring him to you.”
“Wait, Valarian was here?” he asks, whipping his head up from his arms.
“Yes, you promised him. Then he walks into this place looking like a shithole with you drunk.”
“He saw me?” Valen asks, and the feeling through the bond is one of sheer guilt and panic. He looks around the room frantically, as if hoping to spot Valarian. “Where is he?” he asks, getting up and rushing to his son's room.
“He’s not here. Your father has him,” I say, and he freezes, snarling and turning on his heel, then stalking toward me.
“You let that man take him?” he growls angrily.
“Yes, because he asked for you and you were unavailable. I understand you're upset, but don't punish your son for it, Valen,” I say, walking over to my handbag. I rummage for the letter Valarie sent to me for him after her death. Her handwriting is on the front. I swallow the lump that forms in my throat, and tears prick my eyes from just thinking of her before I turn around.
ChapterSeventy
Everly
“She always watched; you just didn't know. She watched you your entire life. Don't let her down by having to watch you destroy yourself,” I tell him before thrusting the letter at him.
He takes it, reading his name on the front. “What's this?”
“From Valarie; it arrived in the mail a couple of weeks after her funeral along with a few others,” I say, watching him turn it over between his fingers. After shaking my head, I grab my bag from the counter and head for the door.
“She's dead, Everly. He kept her from me, and now she's dead,” he says, and I stop. Tears burn my eyes as I turn to face him.
“She is only dead if you believe she is. That hotel is her legacy—hers. All those women and the rogues? She helped build that. I hated your father for so long for what he did to her; I may never forgive him for that, but if he hadn't, none of that would exist. All those people, she gave them their lives back—that hotel gave them their lives back. She isn't dead, Valen. Everything I am, Zoe is, Macey, your son, is her. Gone, yes, but she is not dead because no one will forget what she’s given to us,” I say. Valen shakes his head before falling back onto the stool. He clutches his head in his hands once more, and his shoulders shake as he breaks down.
“He lied. All those years, he lied to me,” Valen cries, and I chew my lip to stop it from quivering before walking over to him. I run my fingers through his hair and gently take the letter from him. He looks at me, and I place it in my handbag.
“What are you doing?”
“Come with me?” I say. He shakes his head. “I want to show you something,” I tell him, pulling on his hand. “But first, you need to get dressed; you stink,” I tell him, groaning as I pull him to his feet, and he chuckles. He sniffles and tries to kiss me, but I pull away.
“Did you make out with an ashtray?” I ask, scrunching up my face in disgust.
“That bad?” he asks, and I nod, pushing him toward the bathroom. I turn the shower on as he pulls off his clothes. After retrieving a towel and fresh clothes for him, I sit next to the sink basin to wait.
I message Kalen to check on Valarian, and he says that Valarian is already down for the night, asleep; the poor guy must have had a long day.
