Val rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and let out a sigh. "I hate this world sometimes. Nothing is ever black and white. I don't have a choice though, Mara. I have to turn this evidence over to the police. It would basically be insurance fraud and a crime if I withheld it knowingly."
"I know, I know," she agreed. "This is just…it's so shitty."
"Thanks for bringing him over here and getting him to tell me all that. That couldn't have been easy." Val looked down at his phone, scrolling through the pictures of screenshots that Marco had sent him. "I'm going to forward these to Officer Powell now. Get home safe, okay?"
"Thanks." She paused a moment longer, then inhaled slowly. "Happy Valentine's Day to you, too, by the way."
Val grinned, offering her a wink before she turned and walked away so that he wouldn't have a chance to say anything further. She didn't know what the hell she wanted him to say, but she darn well knew what she wanted him to do. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her right then and there, pull her against his rock-hard chest and abs, and kiss her until she experienced again every bit of emotion that she'd felt when he'd slipped that bracelet on her wrist.
But instead, she was going to get in her car and run through eighteen different scenarios about what she should text him when she did finally make it home safe.
Chapter Eight
Valentino
"That's it?" Val frowned as the police officer laid out the pieces of jewelry in front of him at the precinct that they'd recovered from Marco's house.
Sure enough, his older brother had done the deed, and the moment the police came in, he'd confessed and surrendered. It was a real shame, honestly, because the entire thing could have been avoided. As frustrated as he was for how he was faring in this situation, he felt guilty as hell for taking Marco's only guardian.
"The rest was either pawned, stolen, or given away. Apparently he threw a few parties where he was showing it off and passing some of it out. Honestly, it's going to be impossible to trace it all." The officer pointed to the jewelry that they had recovered. "This is actually a pretty good return."
"Yeah," Val agreed. He hadn't expected to ever see any of his pieces again, so the fact that he had some right here in front of him was still a win. "What's going to happen to the kid?"
"His pre-trial hearing is this week, so we'll see what the judge says. I'm sure they'll take into consideration anything you request, but we are talking grand larceny." The officer handed him a clipboard. "Here, sign that I'm releasing this inventory to you."
Val signed the document and began packing his pieces away in the jewelry bags and boxes he'd brought with him at the police officer's directive. "What about his little brother, Marco? What will happen to him?"
The police officer shook his head. "I don't have any information on that, but if he had a ward, then probably the state will get involved. Foster care system."
"Can you maybe get my information to his case worker? Just in case? I want to follow up and make sure he's fine." Val handed a business card to the police officer. "I know that probably sounds strange, but I just want to make sure he's okay."
"Sure, I can pass it to the caseworker. I can't make him call you, though." The officer took the card and stuck it to the report. "Everything will work out eventually. It always does."
Val wasn't entirely sure about that these days, but he didn't argue the point. He'd spent the last six days working with police to get everything resolved after he'd discovered the news from Marco. In that time, he had to have his store closed and an insurance rep came out to go over all their findings. The insurance company wanted to make sure to remove the value of any returned pieces from the check he was going to get—which still didn't make up for the full loss, but it was moot at this point.
The frustrating part about all of it, however, had been that he hadn't been able to see Amara all week. She'd texted on Valentine's Day when she'd gotten home safe as she'd promised—simply just the one word, home. But since then, he'd barely gotten more than one or two words out of her when he'd check in. He kept her up to date on the case, and she was encouraging, but there was something lost in the virtual exchange compared to when they were standing in front of one another.
Now that everything was summed up in a neat little package, however, he wanted to go see her. He returned with the items to his store and made sure everything was securely locked away before he made his way over to the arcade. It was busy, as it always was on weekends, and he could see Amara's employee at the main counter helping guests. He scanned the room full of games for her, but didn't see her brightly colored, pink-and red-hued hair anywhere.
Getting an idea, he pulled out his phone and opened his Tinder app. With a few quick changes to his profile's bio, he began swiping within a one-mile radius to see if he could find her. Sure enough, three swipes later and her picture popped up.
Amara, 32. Just a dolphin lost at sea.
He paused as he read her tag line, because it hadn't said that before. Last time he'd seen her profile it had said something about chicken nuggets—odd, but it had made him laugh and definitely remember it. Was this because of the bracelet he’d given her? His heart started to beat harder against his chest, and he wondered if this meant what he hoped it meant.
He swiped on her picture and a notification appeared stating that they had matched on the app. He clicked the message button and began typing out a message to her.
I came here on porpoise hoping to find you.
He hit send, and then waited. A little series of dots popped up on the screen indicating that she was typing, and her response was visible seconds later.
That was mammally funny.
He grinned at her use of a pun back to his pun joke. He decided to let her know that he was here and looking for her. In the mood for a game of Ms. Pac Man?
See you there. Bet you'll recognize the high scorer.
Val laughed, because there was rarely a conversation with her where she didn't toss in her random trivia about her previous championship title on Ms. Pac-Man. But he indulged her anyway and wound his way around the other games until he got to the machine he was looking for.
He pressed the button in the front, and the high scores appeared on the screen. Of course, the top one just said MARA H., but the ones after that were what caught his attention.
The second high scorer was named B. MINE. The third was VAL ENTINE. The fourth was V. ROSSI. Which was definitely his name and initial. He frowned, trying to decipher if it was a message, or if someone actually just had really strange initials and a name very similar to his.
"Do you like it?" a voice came from behind him.
He turned to see Amara standing there with a sly grin on her face. Her hair had a new streak in it—this time it was a lime green. He wanted to run his hand through her hair, hell, he wanted to run his hands over every part of her. But he didn't move. "What does it say?"
He wanted to hear her say it. He needed to hear her say it.
She stepped closer to the machine and pointed at the high scores. "It says, Be mine, Valentine."