by Ophelia Bell
“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 in complete turmoil.
When we come around the doorway into the waiting area, the others are all standing, Sam taking point with the doctor. My youngest brother looks like he’s ready to punch the poor man or strangle him with his stethoscope, and the doctor looks a little relieved when we arrive.
But the downtrodden expression he gives us makes my heart plummet into my stomach. I know that look, and I know the words that come next. I can recite them in my sleep. I still have nightmares about the first time I heard them.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. As you know, Julian’s internal injuries were extensive. We did everything we could to revive him, but . . .”
The rest of his explanation is nothing but gibberish to my ears. Mom collapses in on herself with a choked wail. I lunge at the doctor as if he was the one who shot my brother, even though I know better. It’s all Leo and Sam can do to hold me back. My vision goes hazy as I stumble backward and slump into a chair, only dimly aware that Celeste has her arms around me and is stroking my head while I sob into my hands.
Leo crouches in front of me, tugs my hands away from my face, and looks up into my eyes. He bares his teeth like he’s ready for blood. “We know the bastard is here somewhere. I’m going to go find him and end him, you got it? For J.J. and for Manny.”
“Leo, no!” Celeste blurts, jumping to grab his arm, but he tears away and is out the door in a few quick strides.
I hold her back, pulling her onto my lap despite the blackness that creeps in at the edge of my vision from the pain flaring in my side. “Let him go. Don’t pretend your father can’t protect him if he succeeds.”
“That’s not the point,” she snaps, glaring at me. “We need Gustavo alive. He knows too much about Amador. About my mother’s death. Let go of me. I have to stop Leo because I know he’ll follow through if we let him.”
I reluctantly release her, the despair creeping back in the farther away she gets. Once she disappears beyond my line of sight, I refocus, then brace myself as well as I can to be the bulwark for my family.
Elle curls up at my side when I settle on the sofa, and I hold Mom’s hand while she sobs and Sam holds her tight from the other side.
A few minutes later, Leo and Celeste reappear, both of them looking pissed.
“He’s gone,” Leo says. “The motherfu—” He stops himself and takes a breath, then says, “Gustavo escaped FBI custody. He’s in the wind.”
41
Maddox
My brother’s funeral takes place at the end of the week, in a church in downtown LA so grand J.J. would have laughed at how ostentatious it is. It seems vastly out of scale for the understated bronze urn resting on a table in front of the altar. J.J.’s Navy portrait rests on a stand beside it, his sharp, gray eyes gazing down at the entire proceeding. Flores money pays for everything so I have no room to argue, even if I had the energy for it. I let Celeste take over the second she offered after we recovered from receiving the tragic news, and after that she handled every little detail down to choosing a headstone. It left me the task of taking care of Mom, Sam, and Elle and reaching out to Marco and Dad about coming home.
At the church, Mom is as graceful and poised as ever with Elle at her side, an almost perfect replica in black. Except now that I’ve seen the resemblance between Elle and Celeste and Arturo, I can’t unsee it.
I’m in my dress blues, and the church is filling with a sea of dark uniforms, men who served with my brother. I�
��m flabbergasted by the turnout and a little amused by the ratio of black-clad gangbangers mixed with all the white hats, but it doesn’t surprise me that J.J. fostered friendships with this many people from all these backgrounds.
Two faces are still absent, and I keep scanning the arrivals, looking for them. Neither Dad nor Marco called to let us know whether they were able to secure leave to come home. Dad’s not due to finish his assignment until January, but Marco was planning to be home for Christmas, which is only one week away. A family death is more than sufficient reason to secure leave to come home though, so they should both to be here.
A hand slips into mine. Celeste smiles up at me. “Your brother was popular.”
I nod and let go of her hand to greet a few of J.J.’s old high school friends, accept their condolences, then return my attention to her. “He’d love this, the cocky bastard, but he made enemies as easily as he made friends.” I guess he made one enemy too many and it finally bit him on the ass.
It’s time for the service to begin, and since our family is lapsed Catholic, the ritual part is brief before it’s time for me to stand and give my eulogy. I grit my teeth and rise, bending over to give Mom a peck on the cheek and Sam’s shoulder a squeeze. I’m stalling because I hate speaking to crowds. I’ve never been a talker, that was always J.J.’s thing, but there’s no getting out of this. I take a deep breath, turn toward the stage, and stop cold.
My brother Marco is climbing to the podium, glowing like a fucking beacon in dress-whites. Mom inhales a startled breath, then raises her handkerchief to her eyes as Marco leans into the microphone to speak.
“It’s okay, big brother. I know you hate this shit so you can take a seat. I’ve got this.”
I sit back down, stunned that he’s here. But that’s like him to come. I’m sure if he’d known J.J. and I were in trouble to begin with, he’d have moved heaven and earth to help us.
My eyes are hot with tears I struggle to blink back, and I can only nod my thanks as he begins to speak.
Marco says everything I wanted to say, only better. As the middle child, he looked up to both me and J.J. and credits his success as a Navy SEAL to our influence, which he laughs about because it’s clear J.J. was raising hell until the very end. He doesn’t mince words either, nor does he censor himself even for the sake of our mother. But she beams at him through her tears despite the salty language. He has the entire crowd laughing as he tells story after story about J.J.’s antics when we were young. He ends on a more somber note and I’ve given up on holding back the tears by the time he walks down from the podium and hauls me into a bone-crushing hug.
“I wish to fuck I could’ve been here for you, brother,” he whispers as he slides into the pew between me and Mom.
The service finally ends, and Marco joins me in the honor guard with a few of Julian’s former shipmates, flanking Sam as he carries our brother’s ashes out of the church. Mom and Elle walk at Sam’s sides. Conspicuously absent is the man who shares J.J.’s name. Our bastard of a father is nowhere to be seen. I finally give up looking as we all leave for the funeral procession to the cemetery. I decide then and there that if he ever shows back up, I don’t care what Mom says, I’m sending him packing.
After Marco presents the folded American flag to Mom with an understated flourish, he finally acknowledges my pointed look with narrowed eyes when he stands back up.
“What’s with the look?”
“Dress whites at a funeral? What the hell are you smoking?” I mutter as the funeral party breaks up and people start heading back toward the limousines that brought us here, courtesy of Papá Flores.
“It’s a long story and not really one worth sharing. I figured my presence was more important than what I was wearing, so here I am.” He sobers and glances back where Mom and Elle are walking with the others a few paces behind us. Their group now includes Arturo, Leo, and Celeste, as well as Toni Valentine and her brothers and another woman Mom’s age who I’m guessing is connected to Arturo in some way, but I haven’t figured out how. “Want to tell me what really happened? I haven’t gotten a straight story out of anyone I asked yet. But you were there. How’s the wound, by the way?”
I touch my side and try to avoid scratching where my bandage pulls at my skin, but it’s the new addition to my tattoos that really bothers me. I wouldn’t have maintained my sanity for the past week without a visit to Zarya to continue covering my scars, but this time she included a little more work than usual. I now sport the head of a wolf on my side, several inches above my bullet wound, with wild eyes and a bloody maw and J.J.’s initials worked into a scar on the wolf’s ear. “It’s healing. J.J. got tangled up with a couple cartels, and I was dumb enough to get dragged into it, that’s all.”
“Or dumb enough to not let him do it alone? I know you, Maddy. You never used to let us do stupid shit like that. What changed?” He darts another look back. “Or do I even need to ask?”
“It had nothing to do with Celeste.”
“What about Reyes?”
I turn to him and narrow my eyes. “Why would you automatically jump to Leo?”
“I have friends in naval intelligence. I may have abused that relationship just a little to keep tabs on you two. So . . . I know about your CO. And I’m sorry. But you don’t need to lie to me. None of us care who you love. We just want you to be happy. Which I realize is a fucking ironic thing to say today, but it’s the truth.”
We’re about to reach the cars that are lined up at the curb and it’s my turn to look over my shoulder. A cold breeze picks up, tugging at Celeste’s hair and flinging it into Elle’s face. They stumble into each other and start laughing as the breeze continues to whip their long hair around. Toni comes to their rescue, digging into her purse and producing hair ties, then pausing to swiftly plait both girls’ hair. When she’s done, she gives Elle a tight hug that leaves my sister off-balance, and Celeste is there to steady her. The three of them continue toward the cars, arm in arm.
“You know her?” Marco asks, catching me scrutinizing Toni a little longer than necessary. The chauffeur is opening the car door for us, and I pause and nod. “She’s Celeste’s best friend. Her brothers were friends of J.J.’s, and I think she did some of J.J.’s ink, so she knew him too.”
“Tattoo artist, huh? And tell me again, why did you go after the girl with no tattoos and a dad with a penchant for murder when the perfect woman is right there?”
“Do you even need to ask?” I deflect, because I’m not in the mood to list all the reasons why Celeste is right for me but Toni isn’t.
He barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “I always thought you had a death wish for covering EOD. Now I’m positive you do.”
“Papá Flores and I have an understanding. I’m still standing, aren’t I?”
He shakes his head. “Give it time. Just remember to call me if you need out. I’ll come.”
I laugh as we climb in, and Mom, Sam, and Elle join us a few moments later. Arturo’s arranged to host the reception at his estate in Los Feliz, and when we get there, the place is already teaming with caterers. But I can’t forget my late-night visit from Arturo and his promise that I would owe him. I doubt he was referring to covering the cost of J.J.’s lavish send-off. Somehow I don’t think the expense is all that onerous to him, so whatever it is I’m going to owe him for has yet to happen.
The crowd at the church was a strange mix of military, civilians, and criminals but the people who come to the reception are for the most part familiar. They’re old school friends and the handful of J.J.’s shipmates who were able to make it. We don’t have any extended family who could make it, so everyone we know here is a friend or neighbor.
It doesn’t make it easier for me to relax. When the last guest leaves several hours later and there’s no one left but my family and our host’s family, I’m ready to keel over from both sadness and exhaustion. I’m also fucking done with wearing this uniform for the foreseeable future.
It
turns out that the older woman with Arturo is his housekeeper, Elena, who also happens to be Toni’s mom. So it makes sense when I catch Sam trying to butter her up by bringing her refreshments when he isn’t bending Toni’s ear. Toni’s been under his spell all afternoon, despite Marco’s efforts to horn in. I have to give Sam props for how smoothly he’s endeared himself to his idol. I just hope he knows to steer clear of Toni’s brothers, who are giving both of my brothers the evil eye. Marco isn’t about to pursue a woman he can’t stick around for though, so I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to give Sam a little competition to keep him on his toes. If it were any more than that, Sam would probably take issue.
Watching the mini dramas unfold is easier than actually interacting, and Leo and Celeste take turns spending time at my side. At the end I can finally breathe enough to talk.
“Was Manny’s funeral like this?” I ask when the caterers start clearing out.
“Different crowd, but yeah,” Leo says. “He saved Celeste’s life, so he earned it.”
“She saved our lives this time.”
“That she did.” He doesn’t say more and we sit in silence for a few seconds, both absorbing what he’s left unsaid—the regret that help didn’t come a little sooner, that had J.J. lived, we might’ve been celebrating Gustavo’s capture instead of having a wake for another casualty of his bullets.
“Oh, shit,” I blurt, that thought reminding me of the item I stashed in my pocket when I got dressed this morning. I pull out the black, velvet-covered box and hold it out to Leo. He stares down at it like I’m handing him a live grenade.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on one knee or something?” he asks with a quirk of his lips.
“Dude, does this look like a fucking ring box to you?” The box is about four inches long and almost as wide, so pretty obvious it isn’t for an engagement ring. “This is something you left at my place. I’m just giving it back.” I push it toward him again and he finally takes it.
