Oddly enough, he nods and sighs, his shoulders drooping as if in defeat. “Fair enough. I’ll get you something to wear.” Then he disappears. He returns a moment later with a clean towel and a stack of clothes and is gone again, leaving me to finish bathing.
When I turn off the water, I still feel raw, my eyes gritty from crying, but I’m calm and resolute. I dry off and find a tiny comb that takes forever to drag through my tangled knots, then I dress in the clothes he left. It’s a pair of cutoff sweatpants and a threadbare Navy T-shirt. The shorts are snug around my wide hips, but the shirt engulfs me, the comfortable cotton shrouding me in his scent.
I brace myself inside the door, as if leaving the sanctuary of this small, steam-filled room that smells like Maddox is akin to being reborn. To what, I can’t imagine. A world where I can’t trust my father, where my best friend might decide to blame me for her lover’s death, where two men I’m inescapably drawn to are waiting just on the other side of the door, one damaged from throwing himself in front of a bullet that had just pierced his brother’s heart.
Whatever damage they’ve endured already is probably nothing to what they would be in for if I let down my guard again like I did with Maddox. I’m apparently toxic to men, even men like Leo and Manny, who are willing to take crazy risks.
Twisting the knob, I pull the door open. My breath catches at the sight on the other side. I have a clear view of Maddox’s bed, where Leo lies unconscious. Maddox is seated on the edge of the bed, head bent low. He’s speaking, but I can’t make out the words, only the tone which sounds like a plea.
I hold my breath and wait, not wanting to interrupt whatever private moment I’ve revealed. Are they that close? If so, I had no idea. Naturally, Leo would have other friends besides his brother and Toni. Besides me. He doesn’t have an overbearing, overprotective father with a habit of damaging and killing the people he gets close to.
But this is deeper than a friendly speech. More like a man at the bedside of his wounded lover, an impression that’s driven home when Maddox lifts a hand and touches Leo’s hair. It’s hesitant, fleeting, as if he doesn’t believe he’s allowed, and then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to Leo’s forehead.
I retreat, suddenly conscious of the gravity of the secret moment I just witnessed. Stepping backward into the bathroom, I hit the lever on the toilet tank, and the silence is broken with the sound of rushing water. When I open the door fully, Maddox is gone, and Leo is peacefully asleep, none the wiser for what must have been a confession of love.
Stepping across the bare wood floor to the bed, I pause and look down at Leo, my insides a morass of emotions. The shame of throwing myself at a man who might not have wanted me is the greatest of them, but it’s laced with confusion. When I kissed Maddox in the shower, he responded like any hot-blooded man would, at least at first. The way he kissed me two weeks ago certainly holds no contradiction either. Nor the way he tongued me into oblivion that afternoon in the back of the studio.
There’s definitely a common theme between the two events, and whatever weird, jealous ache started building inside me fades as I stare down at Leo’s handsome, sleeping face. Leo was on the other side of the door both times.
The floor creaks as Maddox appears on the opposite side of the bed. I can’t tear my gaze away from Leo, though, my mind tangled with a deeper understanding of this complicated man who has been kind enough to help me tonight.
“He’s easy to love,” I say, touching Leo’s hair where Maddox caressed it a moment ago. I want him to know I know, without confronting him, so he knows I carry no judgment.
When I meet his gaze, his eyes are glassy, and his lips twitch in a sad smile. “So are you.”
15
Celeste
My conversation with Papá is shorter than I expected. I’m a little disappointed, but there will be time for a more involved conversation later. He tells me Amon will handle things, which is already apparent from the commotion going on down in Maddox’s garage. The entire interior wall of his studio apartment consists of a row of windows that look down into the garage itself, with a door at each end that leads onto a metal landing where I stand, watching, while on the phone with Papá.
Somehow I imagined my father being angry, yelling at me for meeting with Amador. Yet all I hear is resignation in his voice, and I have a feeling it’s the perfect time to ask the questions I’ve been craving answers to. I don’t though. As much as I still want to know the truth about my mother’s death, I’m too exhausted to broach the topic with him now. He says he’ll send a car for me but I tell him no. I have no intention of leaving Leo’s side until he wakes up, and probably not for some time after that either.
Papá sighs into the phone. “Dr. Yao is on his way to check on him. Call me when you’re ready, mija,” he says before we say goodbye.
It’s almost morning, and I haven’t slept. Benny and Baz are down in the garage with Amon and Maddox. Amon is Papá’s cleaner and has been a recurring shadow at the edge of our lives for as long as I can remember. He’s a pale-eyed, pale-haired man who is eerily silent while he works. He murmurs the faintest directions to the other men, who obey without question
