Page 91 of Angels & Whiskey
My parents seemedto be taking this “on the run” situation as a mini-vacation. I didn’t blame them. All morning, while they waited for me to come check on them, they stayed in bed and ate room service. By the time I arrived, they looked relaxed. I hadn’t realized they haven’t taken a vacation in many, many years—even if it was still in the city we lived in.
Paul came with us and helped my dad feel as if they could keep me safe no matter what the future held. He was hesitant at first, but none of us wanted him to get involved—not even Mom.
Gabe convinced them we were just going to go in and get some of my things. If Rich were there, Gabe and Paul would assess the situation. None of us knew what Rich was doing or how he was feeling about me leaving. I was sure he was pissed … maybe even worried.
Rich needed to not be home so I could make a clean getaway.
Driving to my house was nerve-racking, to say the least. Paul let me sit in the front while Gabe drove. The SUV was silent as I stared out the window, my heart pounding with each mile we got closer. I didn’t want to go back—I didn’t want to see Rich again. I wanted to wait and let the court or our attorneys decide how to divide everything up. Once the boys mentioned Rich could destroy my things, it made me realize he could hurt me further by ripping up my childhood memories.
Rich was like a ticking time bomb. Whenever I did something to piss him off, he’d explode out of nowhere. I had never recalled a situation where I knew I fucked up anddeservedto be yelled at—except for leaving him.
“It’s going to be okay, angel.” Gabe grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers and held it while he drove.
I continued to stare out the passenger side window, not saying anything until we pulled into my driveway. “You’re not going to leave my side, right?” I looked at Gabe before we all opened our doors.
“Of course not,” he replied.
“I won’t either, Auttie.” Paul reached forward and squeezed my shoulder. I didn’t know what made these two men move from L.A. to Vegas, but I was grateful. Maybe it was perfect timing … or fate.
Reaching into my purse, I grabbed my keys and nodded. We opened the car doors and after stepping out of the SUV, we began walking up the stone path to the front door. With each step, my heart thumped. It was as if it stilled because I had no blood pumping until I took a step. I was certain it wasn’t beating the normal sixty to eighty beats per minute.
Before we stepped up to the door, Gabe reached out and took the keys from my hand. I hesitated before releasing my grasp on them. “Let’s just leave,” I suggested, looking into my reflection of Gabe’s sunglasses.
“We’re here already. I’ll go in first and see if Rich is in there. Paul can stay with you.”
I nodded and Gabe unlocked the door while I stood, looking out at the street every two seconds thinking Rich would pull up at any minute. Paul draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me to him, making me feel as though he were my shield. Gabe walked inside and every second that passed felt as if it took hours.
Finally, Gabe came out and told us that Rich wasn’t there. When we entered, all the tables from the party were still set up, empty glasses sat scattered around and everything looked intact until I entered my bedroom to grab some of my clothes.
Gabe grabbed my hand, halting me before I rounded the corner to go to my room. “Your room doesn’t look like the rest of the house.”
I turned my head toward him. “What?”
“It’s not pretty.”
I nodded, preparing myself for the worst and after he let go of my hand, I continued to my room only to stop mid-stride when I saw clothes scattered in the entryway. I gasped and covered my mouth as I stepped in further. There was a hole in the wall, my cell phone lay on the floor, shattered into pieces as if Rich threw it against the wall. The lamps on each nightstand were knocked over and onto the floor, their lamps shades smashed and each light bulbs crushed.
Every drawer in the nightstands and dressers were thrown, the clothes were strewn around the room. Everything I had on top of the nightstands, the dressers and on the en-suite bathroom counters were on the floor. Most of the stuff broken, the glass from the picture frames and my perfume bottles.
And lastly as I walked into the closet, I stopped, avoiding stepping on all my clothes that were tossed from their hangers. I turned, ready to head back and to the guest bedroom to see what Rich had done in that room. Instead, the moment my gaze met Gabe’s, I froze, a lump forming in my throat.
“It’s only material things, angel. Everything can be replaced,” he reminded me, stepping toward me and catching me as I crumpled to the floor, tears running down my cheeks.
I tried to speak—to tell him I understood, but everything I’d once used or thought was pretty was now destroyed, and it was all because of my hasty decision to fly.
“It’s going to be okay,” he cooed, running his hand down my back and bringing me closer to him until there was no space for air to seep through between us. “I know you want to stay here on the floor and cry … I get it. But since Major Dick isn’t here right now, we should get what is salvageable and get out before he comes back.”
He held my head to his chest as my body shook and tears continued to stream down my face. Sniffling, I finally stood.
Paul walked in a second later. “All the other rooms look okay, Auttie. I found these bags,” he lifted a few duffle bags and a piece of luggage, “in the garage. There’s also only one car in there. I’m assuming it’s yours?”
I nodded, assuming the same, and turned back toward my closet. Gabe followed and we picked up all the pieces of clothing and stuffed them in the bags. I didn’t have time to see if they were ruined; I’d do that once I was back at Gabe’s.
“Can you fill those up with all the clothes that will fit? I’m going to go to the spare bedroom. There are a few boxes in there with my albums and stuff.”
They both agreed and I left the room. Grabbing a chair, I stood on it and reached for the boxes on the top of the closet.
“Why don’t you get yourboyfriendto help you with those boxes, princess? Or is he not man enough to help you with the heavy stuff?”
