know that I’m about to break her heart beyond repair.
I haven’t told anyone this story. I haven’t wanted to relive it. It’s the monster that lives under my bed. But I’ve done my mother a great disservice in keeping it from her. So, I gather my courage and sit down.
“I need to tell you something.” I take her hand in mine and start from the night in the bakery when Stone stabbed Weston.
“Dan? That sycophantic little fucker, I never liked him.” She’s been stoic, her eyes flickering with rage and anguish, but completely silent. But now she stands, pacing the way I do when I’m agitated.
“Well, he was involved, but he’s been gone for ten years.”
She stops pacing and taps a finger to her lips. All signs of distress she was feeling have been replaced with intense focus. “What was his connection to this Weston scumbag?” She starts pacing again, talking more to herself than to me. “I mean…how could Liam have known you were there?”
“He said he had a tracker on my car.”
“No, he didn’t.” She makes it sound like the most absurd thing she’d ever heard.
“It didn’t?” I ask around a hiccup.
“No. He must have known that boy, that house. Where’d you say it was, Palestine?”
“Yes.”
She sits back down and cups my face, with achingly tender yet, commanding hands.
“Where is this man? This Weston?” She says his name like it’s a curse. Her midnight eyes glitter like exploding galaxies.
“Pops told us he was dead. Killed in the raid that set us free. And when that girl was arrested, the news reports said he was missing, and presumed dead.”
She grimaces with disgust and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Well, then we must assume that he is in fact alive. And we must find him. We’ll have to do it on our own, because we can’t be sure whoever helped him isn’t still on the police force.”
Fear and loathing coil in my stomach. I shake my head violently. “No, no, no, I can’t do that.” I never want to see him again. Not ever. “And if he isn’t dead, then where’s he been all these years?” The idea of him lurking in the shadows makes me dizzy with fright.
My mother grabs my shoulders and gives me a firm shake. I look up into her dark, terrifyingly cold eyes. “We need to be sure. I can handle that part of the plan. You need to focus on the rest.”
I look at her askance. “The rest of what?”
She continues talking, as if she didn’t hear me. “I need to find out more about these blue thunderbolts. Whatever he was a part of, we need to make sure it’s completely dismantled.” She claps her hands impatiently at me and rises to her feet. “We’ve got work to do. Why are you just sitting there like a bump on a log?”
“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shake my hands in exasperation.
She rolls her eyes impatiently. “Keep up, child. I’ll hunt for this man, and you must finally leave your husband.”
I choke on the shocked gasp the word hunt drew from me and do a double take at her. “What did you say?”
She rests her hands on her hips and purses her lips. “He got your nanny pregnant, didn’t he?”
My eyes bug out. “How do you know that?”
She gives me a look that says, “really?”
“Yes, he did. That was the last straw.”
“And you’ve been helping her. Why?” she asks, and my back stiffens at the disapproval in her voice.
“Because she’s young and scared, and she’s about to have a baby that will be a brother or sister to my children.”
She sighs. “You don’t need to be defensive. It’s just very different from what I would have done.”
My defenses come up even further. “I know it’s unconventional, but I don’t know what else to do. What would my children think of me if I sent her out into the world on her own? After all the things I’ve told them about being decent.”
“I wasn’t being critical. In fact, I’m in awe. I was faced with this myself. Gigi came here, pregnant and scared and we sent her away without any help. How different would all of this might have been if I’d had a fraction of your grace?”
My heart lodges in my throat. It’s the highest praise she’s ever given me.
“What would you have done if you hadn’t married Marcel?” she asks, taking me by surprise, again.