“What is it, honey?” she asks.
I stare down at her, jaw flexing, and her frown deepens. “How long have you and Arturo Flores been lovers, Mom?”
Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen. A bright flush rises into her cheeks, making her look ten years younger. She stammers and shakes her head, then finally blurts out, “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
“Don’t lie to me,” I say, keeping my voice low. “I want the truth. There’s something to it, isn’t there? Why else would we be able to stay in that building all these years? Does he own your house too?”
“No! Your father and I own the house outright. We’ve done whatever we could to keep from having to mortgage it again.”
“Does Dad know what you do for Arturo?”
She grits her teeth and her brown eyes flash. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating—”
“The studio, Mom. Does Dad know you launder money through it?” I lower my voice to a whisper to avoid drawing attention. “Does Dad know about Elle?”
She shakes her head repeatedly, her eyes wide and scared now, rather than angry. Finally, she covers her face with her hands and lets out a long sigh.
“It was a long time ago,” she says, her French accent more pronounced in her emotional state. “I never meant for it to happen, but I always cared for Arturo, and his wife had just died. He and I were very close once, so comforting him came naturally. But the timing of my pregnancy with Arielle was all wrong, and your father knew it. He used to be a gentle man, Maddox. It was my fault he became so angry.”
“You and I both know Dad’s a lot more than angry. If you and Arturo were so close back then, why the hell give that up?”
“We were too different. I wanted a man who would make his living honestly. But I guess I miscalculated my own willingness to bend rules.” She gives me a sad smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t have had you and your brothers, and you wouldn’t have Celeste. What I’ve endured all these years is a small price to pay.”
I close my eyes, gathering the patience to keep from shaking her and yelling that we all paid the price, not just her, even though she took the brunt of Dad’s wrath when we were growing up.
Sighing, I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her. “You don’t deserve how Dad treats you. Why have you stayed all this time?”
She steps back and looks down between us, shaking her head, then blowing her nose into a tissue she pulls from a pocket. “When I ended things with Arturo at the beginning, he knew it was so I could be with your father. He insisted Julian was wrong for me, that he wouldn’t treat me well, that I would never be happy. And he said that the time would come when I realized it, and when I did—when my marriage ended—he would be there to put Julian out of his misery and take his place. I was determined to prove him wrong, especially after he returned to LA two years later with a beautiful new wife and a baby.”
“Clearly, he moved on though. There’s no way he’d hold that threat over you.”
“You’ve met the man, Maddy. You’re in love with his daughter. What do you think? Julian and I were happy for years after that. He was good to us, and he doesn’t deserve to die just because I was unfaithful one time.”
My nostrils flare, and I have to restrain myself from telling her what I really think. I’ve seen the bruises, and now that my suspicions about Mom and Arturo have been confirmed, I’m tempted to appeal to the old man for help, even if that means making Dad disappear. If Mom won’t end things, maybe Arturo will end them for her.
“Please, mon chéri, stop worrying about me. Your father is gone so much, I have more than enough peace.”
“I’m not fucking blind, Mom. He hurts you. You aren’t happy. Please just leave him.”
She sighs and raises a hand to my cheek, her fingertips rasping across my jaw. “I am happy. Happy to see the kind of men my boys are becoming. Men who will always make me proud no matter what. And a daughter . . .” She closes her eyes as if savoring the very idea of Elle. “A daughter who is smart and beautiful beyond my wildest dreams.”
I snort. “I guess I know the answer to the question of who you love best.” The joke comes out sounding bitter because I’m not ready to drop the subject of her leaving Dad, but it’s going to take more energy to get through to her—energy I’m sorely lacking at the moment.
She opens her eyes with a sad look. “Please don’t tell her the truth about her father. I need to do it in my own way. Julian is not a man she respects, I already know this. She tolerates him because she has no choice. But I don’t know if she’d consider Arturo an improvement.”
“I’m not sure I would either.” I’ve taken enough hits from Dad to know what a brutal bastard he can be. Arturo may not throw the punches himself, but Dad never put me in the hospital. Yet I still can’t deny how effective Arturo’s methods are.
Footsteps approach. Elle is coming toward us from the waiting area down the hall. She’s pale and wide-eyed and Mom and I both head toward her at a swift walk.
“What is it? Is he out of surgery?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “The doctor wants us all there. I’m scared.”
Mom rushes off and Elle and I follow. She takes my hand and I give hers a squeeze but my insides are
