Shouldn’t Have Gone

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Shouldn’t Have Gone Page 11

by Mara Lynne


  He buries his head in his hands, trying to think of ways to solve this. Angel could be facing a big backlash from the media, and he’s not even with her to protect her.

  “How did this happen?” he says, keeping his voice calm and composed somehow.

  “A certain Ms. Phoemela Matthews was at the event. She recognized Ms. Mohr. To make things worse, Mary Etheridge was there to witness everything. She even called Ms. Mohr a manipulative gold digging bitch!”

  “And Angel, where is she? How is she?” Hunter feels horror paralyzing his legs, and he has to set himself on the chaise lounge.

  Oh, God! How come he have not fixed this one earlier?

  “She’s with her friend, Ray Gaskell. She doesn’t want to return home, sir.”

  “Can I speak to her?”

  “I’m afraid she’s already asleep, Mr. Stone, sir. She’s been crying since we left the hotel.”

  “Look after her, Paul. Don’t take your eyes off her,” he firmly says. “I will come back soon and fix this mess.”

  “When shall I expect your return, sir?”

  “Tomorrow, I will be back there,” he responds. “But for the meantime, deal with the little things.” By little things, he means the media. Hunter knows how brutal and pitiless they could become. In just a few hours, they can sensationalize something so little, even an ant’s life.

  “Yes, Mr. Stone, sir. And what about Mary Etheridge?”

  Hunter sighs.

  That one is the biggest hurdle. Even Paul cannot solve that.

  “I’ll take care of her when I return. Just make sure Angel stays safe. I will call her tomorrow.”

  Damn! This is all my fault! he tells himself.

  ***

  Right after the moment he’s woken up—although sleep was almost impossible for him that night—he calls in Ray’s apartment.

  “She’s been crying the whole night,” Ray says on the phone.

  “Let me talk to her,” Hunter says as he packs all his things.

  “It’s Hunter…” He hears Ray waking up Angel, and the sound of Angel’s voice in the morning causes a stir in his stomach.

  “Hunter?”

  “Hey,” he starts. “I’m really sorry. I should have fixed this before.”

  “Hush, it’s not your fault. We both wanted this,” she says. “We both knew this wasn’t going to last long.”

  They both knew they weren’t supposed to fall in love. The scheme was devised for a one-night event, for Hunter’s personal gains. They did not want something unanticipated to start.

  “This is not going to affect us, right?”

  There is a moment of silence, bringing sudden anxiety in him.

  “No, it won’t,” she responds.

  “I’ll be there with you soon. Leave everything to me, Angel.”

  “I’ll be okay. It’s just Mary freaking me out.”

  Of all that woman can do to ruin her reputation, it is no wonder Angel is so worried. But Hunter does not care. He loves her, and he knows her better than that witch.

  “I feel really horrible I can’t be with you right now.”

  “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? I am with Ray. Just focus on your work so that you can return immediately.”

  That, he will do no doubt.

  “I love you, Angel.”

  “And I you.”

  ***

  For twenty minutes, Hunter waits for Damien to come out of his room. Crawford has already arrived in his office, and Harrison will be arriving for their secret meeting in ten minutes. He and Damien are supposed to meet up with Crawford in the afternoon, but since they wanted to surprise Harrison, they will have to be there before Harrison gets to jump into the elevator.

  He tried more than thrice to contact his phone, but he could not reach him.

  What’s supposed to be the matter?

  Did he oversleep?

  Did he forget the plan?

  Or did he develop cold feet?

  Hunter is just about to finish his coffee and see Damien in his room when the hotel manager comes up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stone, but I heard that you have been looking for Mr. Etheridge.”

  “Yes. I’m just about to go to his room and find out what’s keeping him.”

  He notices the male hotel manager crinkle his nose.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “You see, sir. Mr. Etheridge, last night, asked for the hotel’s private plane,” the manager says. “When we asked him for what reason he’d be needing the plane, he answered that there was an emergency back home. We thought you were going with him, but since you’re here, then I am wrong.”

  Private plane? Emergency?

  “He left without telling me…”

  What about Crawford and Harrison? What was he thinking? And what is this emergency he’s talking about? This could not be about Candice and their baby, could it?

  “He left at four in the morning,” the manager adds.

  Chapter 16 –Opening the Lid

  On that same morning after Hunter called, Paul arrives at Ray’s apartment, carrying with him a blue scented envelope.

  She is expecting a bunch of newspapers with her face on and headlines that can be demeaning as ever. Last night, Hunter’s house was so surrounded by the press people that she thought it’d be more comfortable to stay at Ray’s place for the mean time while the issue is scorching hot. Television and radio programs are talking about her, and she knows it won’t stop soon. Surprisingly, today appears to be a normal day, almost like last night was just a dream.

  Has the media left Hunter’s place? Could have they realized that she is not worth of space in their newspapers or TV programs and that there are more pressing issues like politics, global warming, and the humanitarian crisis that should be attended to?

  However, it might not be the real case. She’s at Ray’s place, and no one except Hunter and Paul knew where she’s hiding. Hunter might have already done something to alleviate the problem. Whatever it is, it’s helping her enjoy this temporary peace.

  “Of course, I will not impose it on you to come to the event after what happened last night, Ms. Mohr,” Paul says, “but this only happens once a year, and Mr. Stone never misses this event. The children will severely miss him.”

  These are children with end-stage cancer. It’s a celebration of the hospital’s tenth year anniversary, and the most distinguished people in the city are invited.

  “I don’t think it’s a good plan to be there, Angel,” Ray says as he brings coffee for Paul. “Even though Hunter has ironed out this thing overnight, we can’t still be sure.”

  “What did Hunter say about this, Paul?” she asks.

  “Actually, Ms. Mohr, I forgot to tell him about this special event. I believe England is his priority for now.”

  “What’s he doing anyway in that part of the globe while you here are suffering the consequences of his actions?” Ray says. He takes a seat on the round table and takes a bite off his cookie.

  “Business, I guess,” Angel responds.

  “Mr. Stone came along with Mr. Etheridge to meet a potential investor. I believe this is one big fish.”

  “James?” But two days ago, she met with the mayor for dinner to talk about the wedding.

  “No. His brother, Damien Etheridge.”

  Ray squints his eyes at Angel.

  “Damien?” Her voice forced out of her windpipe. “What is Damien doing in England?”

  “Mr. Etheridge is taking over the business, Ms. Mohr. Mr. Stone is solely accompanying him.”

  Hunter’s dream is crushed. Why did he keep it from me? she asks herself.

  “Are you coming to the event this afternoon, Ms. Mohr?” Paul asks after finishing off three cookies.

  The ringing of the doorbell catches their attention, and Ray quickly walks over the door. After a few seconds, he returns to the kitchen but not alone this time.

  “Ms. Mohr?” A dainty-looking woman in pencil skirt and polyester jacket walks along w
ith Ray.

  “She said Mr. Etheridge sent her here for you,” Ray says, moving the chair away from the guest’s way.

  “Which Mr. Etheridge?” She wants to bite her tongue, but words already came out even before she realizes it.

  Paul, taken aback, chooses not to mind Angel’s odd brashness. So he responds. “Ms. Eckler is Mr. James Etheridge’s assistant, Ms. Mohr.”

  “Yes, and I am here to tell you that Mr. Etheridge is inviting you to lunch.”

  Obviously, it is not a friendly lunch. Angel knows she is being called to clarify things. Mary could have not used this subject as a way to destroy her to James.

  She can’t turn it down, though.

  ***

  Paul drives her to the Marriot Hotel just before twelve. Angel immediately frees herself of the chains in her chest when she sees the mayor alone in the suite room.

  “Please take a seat,” James greets her. Basing from his face alone, Angel could say that the man is not in the mood for a friendly greeting. “I know you know why you are here, miss. Let’s go straight to the point of this meeting, Ms. Mohr.”

  “James, I can explain,” she starts.

  “That is exactly why you are here.” James takes a glass of wine from the waiter beside him, immediately dismissing him. “Who are you exactly, Ms. Mohr?”

  She doesn’t think she must start from the very beginning. James must have known by now that she was Hunter’s paid escort girl.

  “I was just supposed to escort him at the auction night, that night when you first met me.” The memories seem so fresh. She could still vividly remember what she felt when she knew Hunter was his employer and not Paul. There was an uncomfortable stirring at the pit of her stomach, something worth rejoicing. Somehow, she was relieved it was not Paul. Something about Hunter piqued her interest. He was magnetic, mysterious, and dark, not to mention his very commanding presence.

  She continues. “The second time was when he brought me to your family reunion. It was just a favor, sir. I obliged because he begged and asked for it. It was supposed to be the last time I’d go out with him as his pretend girlfriend. Hunter did this because…” She trails off immediately, realizing that James does not know anything about Hunter’s plan of inheriting the family fortune. If there’s one person who should tell James of everything, it should be Hunter himself and not her.

  “I mean, we did not expect this would happen.” Her gaze falls to her shaking fingers on her lap.

  “What is it that you did not expect?”

  “Fall in love,” she answers.

  James heaves a tank of air.

  “Fall in love?” the mayor repeats. “Fall in love, is it?”

  “Yes. We both did not want this, sir. But it happened.”

  “How did you fall in love with my son, Ms. Mohr?” His gaze is now blazing with curiosity.

  How did I fall in love with Hunter?

  Now that someone has asked, she comes to realize that she did not know how. It’s not suddenly finding out one morning that you already love someone. She thinks it took her a long while to like Hunter Stone. He was not very amiable and lovable at first sight, and he was definitely too assertive for a strong-headed girl like her.

  “I don’t know,” she answers. “I can’t say how, but I feel that if I lose him, life will not be the same for me. I knew he was too great for a girl who worked her way through college by working in a diner, who depended on health insurances and loans to get her father the medical attention he needed. Hunter made me feel that with every fiber of my being, and I hated him for that, though. Nevertheless, there was something in him that is hard to explain. It opened my eyes to who he really is, to the kindness he has that not everyone can see. I saw something in him. Maybe that window precipitated the feelings I already have for him.”

  Maybe she was already attracted to him the moment she first laid her eyes on him. It’s just that she was too hurt over Damien that time that she failed to notice it. Or maybe she was just too stupid not to realize it earlier.

  “I just know I love him, sir.”

  James nods as though slowly believing every word she said. “Hunter seems to be happy now. I think it’s because of you. I did not think that something good would come out of this craziness,” he says. “Hiring girls to pretend to be his lover. Does he think I do not know about this?”

  “I apologize, Mr. Etheridge, for lying. I know I should have told you earlier.”

  “There’s no need for an apology, Ms. Mohr. You have no fault against me,” James reassuringly states. “And I don’t think you owe the public an apology. They can be savages, you know. I am just relieved that Hunter finally found happiness. I always worry for that boy. He’s not very expressive.”

  Angel agrees right away. Not very expressive, he is.

  “But every time I see you and him, he openly shows his love and care for you, something I thought he was incapable of doing. Turns out I am entirely wrong.”

  Being loved by Hunter Stone is definitely the best feeling in the world.

  “He never told me what he wants. Not even the kind of ice cream or toy he likes. I worry for him all the time, but Hunter shuns away the affection I tried to give to him,” James adds. “But now, I think it’s time to stop worrying about him. He’s got you now.”

  Angel couldn’t be a lot happier with what James had said. She thought that talking with James today was going to be bad. Obviously, it should have been because she lied to him—to everyone. But James is very understanding, and his care for Hunter is evident. Angel, though, can’t stop wondering why Hunter thought otherwise. James said himself that he tried to reach out, but it was Hunter who seemed to dislike his fatherly efforts. But in Hunter’s book, he thought James was the one lacking.

  “I am excited about the wedding!” James exclaims. “And the many grandchildren I will have.”

  Once they have finished their food, the mayor hurries back to his office. Angel waits for Paul in a private room after she was told by the hotel management that TV and newspaper reporters have camped outside the hotel when they found out she was in there. Even the exits and hidden portals of the hotel have been crammed with nosy reporters. The lobby, unfortunately, is breached, and the hotel management is having a difficult time controlling them.

  Paul arrives in ten minutes, bringing along with him Hunter’s special security team. The car is parked at the entrance. Hence, there’s no way Angel could avoid the reporters.

  With the eight to ten well-built men surrounding her, Angel could barely walk. The press people are pushing and pressing them so hard, she thought she’s already walking over a body. Paul keeps on telling her to continue walking, and so she does even though the screaming and camera flashes were hurting her senses… and most especially, her ego. People are calling her names which she is not.

  “Hey, how much are you per night?” a shout erupts from the ocean of people, then a humiliating laughter follows.

  They are still trudging along the lobby, a long way to the main entrance.

  Then, all of a sudden, Angel feels a crack on her head, followed by another crack on her cheeks. It feels cold and slimy. Just before her head could turn to see what was thrown at her, she feels her body being heaved to one side, a strong grasp around her waist, and an umbrella over her head. When she turns to her side, her horrified eyes are met by the gaze of Damien Etheridge.

  She slows down, and his grasp tightens, heaving her closer to him.

  “Damien?” Calling out his name does not help. The reporters become wilder, more curious.

  Instead of pushing him away, she lets Damien touch her face, letting herself drown in the warmth of care and worry emanated by his eyes.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Etheridge, sir,” Paul utters, still holding down the line of reporters in the right lane. “But what are you doing here?”

  Yeah, what is he doing here?

  “And where are you taking Ms. Mohr?”

  Damien’s fingers entwine with hers and pu
ll her away from Paul and the security team. He was using his entire huge trunk to protect her from the public’s vicious claws.

  “Mr. Etheridge, sir!” Paul calls once more.

  But he is too late. Everyone’s too late to stop Damien. He’s got her.

  He takes her away from the Marriot Hotel, passing through the wild boars of media and the stunned spectators who just happened to witness everything, and into his car.

  Just where is he taking her?

  Too stunned to even say anything, she could not stop him from dragging her into his car.

  “Pine Valley, Robert,” Damien instructs his driver as he draws a handkerchief from his pocket.

  It all happened so fast, and yet in her eyes and mind, it was transpiring so slow that she could rewind the events in her head a manifold of times.

  With the handkerchief in his hands, Damien hesitates. His hand stops before it could land on her face to wipe away the egg stains on her hair and cheek.

  “Why are you here?” she asks, her voice quavering.

  Damien straightens his back on the chair and sighs heavily.

  The car is speeding, and she knows where she will be taken to.

  “Why am I here?” Masking his anger, his voice sounds contrary to what he truly feels. “Why am I here, Angel?”

  “Take me home, Damien,” she tells him, fighting off the urge to look at his direction.

  “Where to, Angel? To Colombia where your parents are? To your apartment?”

  “No. My home, now…”

  He shakes his head.

  “No. You’re wrong,” he counters. “You don’t belong to Hunter, do you understand me? You don’t!”

  Chapter 17 – The Valley

  Is he kidnapping Angel?

  No.

  He does not think he is. Instead, he thinks he is protecting her from the violent world of Hunter Stone. For him, there’s no safer place than Pine Valley. He knew it was a crazy thought, but for a moment, he envisioned taking Angel further than Pine Valley—perhaps New Mexico or down south—beyond the borders of the U.S. But Angel would not stop crying then.

 

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