Mom glared at me, and Robert waved his hand and continued. “Don’t look at her like that, Victoria. She didn’t do anything wrong. She just reminded me of the fact that we’re all going to be a family soon, and I believe families should know each other inside and out. There’s something I’ve kept hidden from everyone for a very long time now, and I believe it’s time to come clean, in the spirit of being an open family. I don’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past, with everything swept under the rug and hidden for years.”
Asher regarded his father with a cool stare. “So what is it?”
“Let’s not discuss it here. We’ll go into town for a drink, because my story might be a little easier to swallow with a nice red.”
Mom was beginning to look worried, and I had to admit I was nervous too. What was Robert’s story? Was he going to tell us that he was Jack the Ripper 2.0? Honestly, I couldn’t think of anything else that properly explained what I’d seen up in the attic, but I suppose I was about to find out.
We drove into the city in a silence fraught with anticipation, and Robert finally parked outside Andaluz, a boutique wine bar and restaurant in a quiet, leafy neighborhood which had become the go-to spot for the wealthy and stylish within the last year. The doorman waved us all in as soon as he saw Robert, and a pretty redheaded hostess gave us an exclusive table in a candlelit alcove toward the back of the place.
After a waitress brought over a bottle of vintage pinot noir and poured it into stemless crystal wine glasses for us, Robert held his hands up and sighed. “All right. I suppose I better start.”
Asher took a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving his father. “Yes, I suppose you should.”
“This matter involves Catalina,” Robert said. “And something else I hid away many years ago.”
I felt Asher stiffen next to me at the mention of his mother, but he didn’t say anything.
“All of you already know that my ex-wife wasn’t exactly the most mentally stable person, god rest her soul. Therapy never seemed to help her, no matter how much we tried.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” Mom murmured, touching her hand to his arm. “It must’ve been very difficult.”
“It was. Especially after she left us when Asher was a baby. You see, she never really left us for good, which is what made things so hard for Asher during his childhood.”
“Everyone knows this already,” Asher said sharply. “She came back and forth whenever she felt like it, begging you for money and ignoring me. Why the hell are we discussing this?”
“Because there’s more to the story. You aren’t the only one she abandoned, son.”
“Yes, she abandoned you too, I know,” Mom said with a sympathetic nod.
Robert shook his head. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
I furrowed my brows with confusion, leaning in closer.
“When Catalina was pregnant with Asher, she was blissfully happy. Then the minute he was born, something inside her snapped. She became moody, depressed. Constantly angry. I didn’t realize this was part of a wider pattern of her mental illness, though. See, she loved the idea of being a mother. It made her wildly happy. She loved being pregnant, and she’d moon over what a wonderful parent she’d be and how much she’d love the baby….but then she’d change immediately after the births.”
“Births?” Asher said, his eyes narrowing. “So you’re saying it happened more than once?”
Robert nodded gravely. “Asher, when you were about four, your mother returned to Briarwood. But this wasn’t like all the times when she came asking me for money. This time was different. One of the staff members found her while they were searching for some old decorations I wanted to put up around the place for Christmas. There’s an extra room in the attic, and they heard someone inside it, crying and moaning in pain. They opened the door and there she was, hiding out in there. Nine months pregnant, totally delirious and in labor.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
Robert nodded. “She’d fallen pregnant to one of the men she was having an affair with in New York, where she’d been living—she said she didn’t even know which one was the father—and she’d come back to Briarwood because it was ‘better’ for the baby. I don’t entirely know what she meant by that, but I assume it was because she knew I’d take care of her and her child. And she was right. Even though we were divorced by then, I felt obligated to help her. After all, she was about to have a baby, and she was the mother of my own child, too. I had to do something.”
“So that’s what the blood on the mattress in the attic was,” I said.
He nodded again. “Yes. It was a difficult labor due to certain complications, and by the time the staff found her that day, she’d started hemorrhaging. I had her rushed to the hospital, and I suppose I never thought to go up there in the attic again after that. So that stuff has been there all that time.”
“So what happened when she gave birth?”
“She stayed in the hospital for a week with the baby. I made sure she received the best care possible, and I offered her money to take care of the child, but I had a suspicion that she would run as soon as she was strong enough. I had a feeling that was why she’d come back to Briarwood to give birth, because she probably knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being a mother, and she knew I’d take care of things for her just like I did with Asher,” he said. He let out a long sigh before continuing. “I was right. She checked herself out after eight days and left the baby behind. Left a note behind saying ‘I can’t do this’. And that was it.”
Asher was still stiff next to me, and I reached over and put a hand on his leg, gently stroking him. I felt him relax a little bit from my touch. I knew this was hard for him to hear, and I knew he didn’t like discussing his mother and the way she’d taken off when he was a child. But maybe it was a good thing that he was hearing this. Maybe knowing that he wasn’t the only child Catalina had abandoned would help him realize that it wasn’t his fault she left—she would’ve done it to any child, not just him.
She probably would’ve even done it to the baby she was going to have with my father, too. She really had been terribly mentally ill, and it was masked so well by her disarming beauty and magnetism that man after man fell for her, not knowing what she was truly capable of.
“What happened to the child?” Mom asked.
“Well, I had to take care of it after she left,” Robert replied. “It wasn’t mine, obviously, but still, I couldn’t let my ex-wife screw up another child by abandoning it, because I saw how terribly maternal abandonment had affected Asher. So I arranged an adoption. Someone I knew and trusted had been trying for a baby with his wife for years, and they were desperate to be parents. They adopted the baby, and he’s had a very good life. He’s never wanted for anything, and he grew up with two parents, never knowing the sadness of being abandoned by his own mother.”
Asher stood up abruptly. “How wonderful,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so glad you were able to fix another abandoned child’s life, just to make yourself feel better about having an already-fucked-up kid on your hands.”
“Asher, that’s not what I meant to imply,” Robert said with a frown. “I only meant I felt obligated to help this baby out in a way I couldn’t with you, and I don’t regret that for a second. I only wish I could’ve taken away your own sorrow after what your mother did to you. I feel like you and I haven’t been as close as we could be for a while now as a result of her previous antics, and I blame myself for that.”
“Right. Good for you. Why are you even telling us all of this?” Asher asked, still standing.
“Because Chloe found the secret room in the attic, and she saw the old dried blood up there. I couldn’t exactly have her thinking our house was some sort of killing field. And like I said earlier, I wanted to be honest with you all. I want this family to work, and part of that means getting things out in the open and sharing. So there it is. That’s my secret, and I hope you can all
understand why I did what I did. I hope it can bring us all closer.”
“Oh, Rob, I think it’s a wonderful thing that you helped that poor baby go to a proper family,” Mom said. “I’m sure he’s had a very good life.”
“Yeah, good for him,” Asher muttered before stepping away from the table and striding out of the wine bar.
Robert sighed. “Let him go. He’ll need a while to calm down. I like this place, anyway, so we’ll just stay and have a couple more glasses. That should give him enough time to cool off.”
I stood up. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go outside too. I think I need to go for a walk and get some fresh air to clear my head. There’s a park up the road, so I could just go there.”
Mom nodded. “Of course, sweetie. Don’t go too far, though. We’ll be waiting,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll just be fifteen minutes or so.”
I headed out of the wine bar and walked about half a mile down the street to the tranquil MacArthur Park, where I found a wooden bench and sat down. Andaluz had been nice, but the air in there seemed too stifling, and after the wild story I’d just heard, I needed somewhere to decompress and breathe properly.
I could scarcely believe the story Robert had told us. It sounded like something out of a corny soap opera—a disturbed ex-wife found holed up in the family mansion, about to give birth to some random man’s baby, which she promptly abandoned in the hospital a week later.
No wonder Robert took so long to consider remarrying. It probably took him years to even begin to trust a woman again after the hell Catalina put him through, and I was glad he’d found love with my mother. As much as I hadn’t approved of them being together at first, it seemed like they were good for each other, and if having a new family meant that Robert could air out all his secrets and get them off his chest, then I could never disapprove of that. Everyone needed a family they could confide in.
I only wished I could confide my true feelings for Asher to all of them.
At least I could confide in my friends, though. As the light evening summer breeze ruffled my hair, I pulled my phone out of my purse and sent a text to Mercedes.
Hey, I’m in MacArthur Park, just near your place. Want to meet me for a few minutes? Had a pretty crazy night so far, and last night was even crazier. Asher stuff, as usual. I have to tell you what happened with him.
She didn’t reply for about ten minutes.
Sorry, can’t make it, had to go test some more perfumes with Mom at the factory for the new fragrance launch next month. We’re still here. But we’ll hang out tomorrow and you can tell me then, okay? Xoxo
I sighed and stood up a moment later, ready to leave the park and head back to the bar. It was just after eight-thirty, so everything had been dark for a while, and I squinted across the street ahead of me as I saw a silhouette of a person lingering near an alleyway that went behind a nearby antique shop. It looked like a tall man in a hoodie, and I sped up, remembering that Asher had grabbed a hoodie before we left.
“Asher, is that you?” I called out. “Hey, I’m heading back to Andaluz. Walk with me?”
I jogged over to the closed shop, but Asher was nowhere to be seen. I must’ve just been seeing things; perhaps what I thought was a person’s silhouette was actually just a shadow from a street sign.
I shrugged and turned back around to head toward the restaurant, and a heavy hand clamped over my mouth from behind as a strong arm grabbed me around the waist.
“No! I…” I only managed to choke out a couple of words as my assailant dragged me into the alleyway next to the shop, and I caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke and men’s cologne as my senses overloaded from all the adrenaline pumping through me. The attacker’s hands tightened their grip on me, and my eyes flickered around wildly, trying to see if there were any passersby who might notice what was going on. But there was no one at this end of the street.
We were alone, and no one was coming to help me.
My mind raced with terror and confusion as the person roughly dragged me several feet down the alley. I tried digging my heels into the ground to stop the movement, but my attacker was too tall and strong for me to fight off. I redoubled my efforts to break free from his grip, but he only grunted and slammed me up against the brick wall of the alleyway. The breath flew out of my lungs from the impact, and I struggled to get enough oxygen through my nose as I winced in pain.
“Please,” I said, gasping for breath as he took his gloved hand off my mouth. “Take my purse. I have money. As much as you need.”
Now that I was facing this way, I could see my attacker. Or I could see what he wanted me to see of him, anyway, which wasn’t much. He was tall, probably about six feet, and he was dressed in black jeans and an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled all the way up over his hair. I saw a few light strands peeking out, but I couldn’t see his face—he was wearing what looked like a Halloween mask.
With great effort, I managed to free one of my hands and drop my purse in front of me, but the mugger didn’t seem interested, simply kicking the little bag away.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice dropping with fear.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached into his front pocket, and I closed my eyes, knowing he was probably retrieving something terrible; perhaps a knife or a gun. This mugger didn’t want my money, so that meant only one thing.
He wanted to hurt me.
Fifteen
Asher
I stormed out of Andaluz with my head clouded over from the information my mind had only just begun to digest. I couldn’t fucking believe that my father had been hiding this secret from me all these years. I resented him for it, and at the same time, his admission had reopened old wounds and made me think of my mother and of the way I felt when she left me with Dad to fend for ourselves.
I’d always had a strange relationship with her, if you could even call it a relationship. Strained wouldn’t be the right word, but I always felt alienated from her on the rare occasions she showed up at Briarwood over the years, as if we weren’t even related. On the odd occasion that we spoke, she didn’t treat me like a son. It was more like I was something between the help and a friend, and I think it only served to confuse me further at that young age. I saw her as someone high above, as someone whom I had to continually impress just to ensure she’d stay interested in me, which she never did.
People say your parents will always love you unconditionally, but I never got that feeling with my mother. It was more like I had to fight to win her love and affection, and I always came out a loser.
And now I knew the truth.
I wasn’t a loser, and I wasn’t the only one this happened to. More importantly, it wasn’t my fault. Not one bit. My mother would have abandoned any other kid as well as me, and she had. It sucked for that other kid, whoever he was, but at the same time, it made me feel a little better about myself, like some sort of weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It also made me angry at my mother all over again. Angry for what she put me through. Angry that she left me and made me feel like this all these years. Angry at her for not being here now, even though that wasn’t even her fault.
As I walked the street where Andaluz was located, my heart pounded loudly in my chest, and my mind slowly began to clear. Perhaps it was partly because of the cool breeze outside, or maybe it was putting some distance between my father and myself that was helping me see through the haze.
After walking for several minutes, I leaned against a closed store’s wall and sighed deeply to myself. I had to admit, part of me was also pissed that Chloe and Victoria had been there for my father’s big reveal. It felt like an intimate conversation, one that should’ve happened between both of us a long time ago, and the fact that he chose to tell them at the same time as he revealed the truth to me was more than a little hurtful.
But I couldn’t blame Chloe and her mother for my father’s behavior, and as minutes passed, I came to realize I was partially
in the wrong. My father obviously had his reasons for not telling me the whole truth about my mother—whether I liked those reasons or not—and no one deserved to see me storming out like that.
Especially Chloe.
The memory of her hand on mine, of the cheeky looks she’d been giving me all day, made me smile to myself. She was one of the few bright spots in my life right now, and I was so fucking grateful I had her. I was being a dick, and a sudden urge to explain all this to her awoke in me. I moved away from the wall and decided to find her, make some amends and make sure she was all right. After all, she must’ve been pretty shaken up after finding that bloodstained room in the attic, and I hadn’t even acknowledged that.
I went back to Andaluz, but I couldn’t see her at the table as I peered through the window. Only Dad and Victoria were there, so I figured Chloe had more than likely followed me out of the restaurant earlier—it was just the kind of person she was, and she probably wanted to get some fresh air as well as clear her head after hearing my father’s big story. As I walked down the street away from Andaluz, I couldn’t see her, but then I remembered the park a few minutes’ walk away. Figuring she went there, I headed in that direction, hoping she was all right.
As soon as I walked into the gated park, I noticed it was pitch dark, since it was starting to get pretty late. I looked for Chloe unsuccessfully and was just about to turn around and head back when I heard a weird noise behind me, coming from the street I’d just walked along.
It was the sound of a struggle, along with a woman’s cries ringing out through the otherwise empty park. I rushed toward the sound, my heart racing without being able to form a single coherent thought, and I crossed the street to find a horrible scene in an alleyway by a small antique store.
Chloe was being attacked, a tall figure clothed in black holding her close with my girl resisting with all her might. The person looked in my direction as I sprinted over, but I couldn’t tell who it was because of the murky darkness and a mask they had on. It didn’t stop me from lunging forward and attacking, though, and my mind screamed bloody murder as I tackled the guy to the ground. He was tall, but not as tall as me. Strong, but not as strong as me—nowhere near, especially with how angry and flooded with adrenaline I was right now.
Scandal (A Dirty Money Novel) Page 14
