Will’s hand squeezed harder as I spoke, but I kept going. There was no stopping now.
“But the biggest problem with all of that wasn’t that I was hurt, or disgusted, or even ashamed of you, Mama. It was that I didn’t feel safe. I had a mother who taught me that my safety wasn’t the most important thing. And I believe that’s the reason I was willing to put myself in other relationships where I wasn’t safe either. Where I was beaten. Where I was r-raped.”
I couldn’t help but stumble over the last word, and stared down at my hands after catching the curious glances from the others in the room. Will knew about Theo, of course, as did Mama. But no one else did—not the full extent. I didn’t have to look up to know that Linda, Barb, and Cathy had guilt written in triplicate over their kind faces. I didn’t even want to know what kind of blend of disgust and anger was on Lucas’s. My pain would be gossip fodder for months—but it was worth it if it woke my mother up.
“Margaret.”
I looked up, and found my mother crying. For the first time in my life, she looked at me openly.
“I’m sorry those things happened to you, baby,” she said as she smeared more of her eyeliner. “I am. And I love you so much. But, Maggie, you cannot blame me for your poor decisions in your life. I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I am not…that man.”
“Mama, I didn’t say that—”
“And frankly, it hurts,” she continued. The tears were drying now. “It hurts that you would make that connection.”
My mouth fell open. She was…was she really mad at me right now?
“Lil.” Will sat forward and quietly handed me his phone.
I looked down. There was a still of a video—nothing notable, but the background was familiar. A bar. Curly’s.
“What?” I shook my head. “Why do you have that on your phone?”
“It’s live,” Will said quietly. “Benny texted me earlier. It went live late last night.”
“What is that?” Mama asked. “Are we done here?”
I turned to her, full of frustration, even a bit of fury.
“No, we’re not done, Mama,” I said. “I have one more thing for you to see.”
I passed the phone to her and pressed play. No one could see the images except Mama, but the familiar sounds of her laughter filled the room.
“That’s Theo, Mama,” I said quietly. “You might remember him, since that’s also you. And until last week, he was trying to hold me and Will hostage with this video. And for a while, we kept it back to save you because you promised to calm down. But now…now it’s out there. And I’m not going to be held hostage anymore. If you—if you don’t come with us to get some help…then I can’t stay. N-none of us can stay any more.”
At first, I thought she might agree. She looked up from the phone with tears seeping down her cheeks in dark blue currents. Her nose was red, and she held her head as if in pain. And maybe she was—she was humiliated and astonished, I thought. I hoped.
“Still think there’s no connection?” I asked softly, hoping to God she’d say no. That she’d see she needed help. That she’d let me help her get it.
But then she said what, in my heart, I knew it still might come down to.
“Go.” Her voice was low, ragged from drink and shame. She tossed the phone back at me as Theo’s laughter and her own grotesque noises bounced off the walls. “Get out. All of you. You think you can come in here, humiliate me, and I’ll roll over and take it?” She looked up, and her big brown eyes, the same she had given to me, seemed sharp as knives. “And you. Get the hell out of my house. Now.”
I stood from my chair, hands reaching out. “Mama, please! Don’t you see that you need help? I can’t—Mama, I can’t be here if you keep going like this—”
“THEN GET OUT!” she shrieked, jumping from her seat and tossing her arms around like a mad woman. The rest of us scattered like seagulls, funneling quickly to the front of the house even as we cried our arguments.
“Come on, Ellie,” Lucas tried.
“Eloise, really, now—”
“Honestly, Ellie, just listen—”
“No, no, no, no, NO!”
As soon as we were all shuttled out the front door, Mama slammed it shut and pulled the blinds. We stood there, the six of us, listening awkwardly as she stomped around the house. There was another slam of a door, and then silence.
From somewhere in the trees, an osprey cried. Will gathered me close and pressed his mouth into my hair.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, again and again. “So fucking sorry.”
I said nothing as my tears steadily flowed and my throat closed completely.
“You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Barb said behind me. “Honey, you did all you could do. And now we have to be good on our word. That’s what’s best for her.”
I pulled away, wiping my wet cheeks. Everyone had the same resigned expressions. They knew it was over. Maybe none of them had believed it would work in the first place.
I turned to Will. “Okay,” I said softly. “Let’s go.”
There wasn’t anything to bring. All of my things were at his house, and his bodyguards had been sent to retrieve them during the night. We followed Lucas, Linda, Barb, and Cathy up the stairs, all of us moving much more slowly than was necessary. At the top, without a single glance at Will, Lucas tugged me toward him and enveloped me in a massive hug.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work, Mags,” he said, unwilling to let go just yet. Lucas knew my struggle with my mother better than anyone.
“I know,” I said, hugging him back. “I know.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So freaking sorry that happened to you.”
I didn’t have to ask what he was talking about, any more than I needed to wonder if he would ever look at me the same way again.
Lucas released me with watery eyes. “Good luck, Mags.”
I exchanged hugs with everyone, and one by one, they left, driving back to their lives with knowing looks on their faces.
“Ready?” Will asked. He wasn’t saying anything, but I knew we needed to go soon. He was supposed to be back on set hours ago. Being here, he was risking his professional reputation, not to mention Max del Conte’s ire.
I nodded. “Okay.”
We got into the car, and I rolled down the back window one last time to look over the property. For better or worse, it would always be my home on some level. This wasn’t how I wanted to say goodbye.
“Margaret, wait!”
The car stopped, and I looked through my tears to find Mama at the top of the stairs.
“Wait,” I croaked to the drivers. “P-please wait for her.”
Finally, she had come to her senses. I knew she would. I knew it wouldn’t be for nothing.
But then I saw that she wasn’t holding anything. Not a purse. Not a bag. Nothing.
She approached the window and set her hands on the ledge.
“This is really how it’s going to be?” she asked as she wiped a tear under one eye. The movement smeared her blue eyeliner even more than it already had been. “You’re gonna take off again? Seems that’s all you really know how to do anymore.”
My heart broke. It tipped off the lonely ledge where it had been perched since I was a girl and broke clean in half.
“I can’t—” I shook my head, struggling to get the words out. “I can’t let you do this to me anymore, Mama. You—”
“Lily.” Will took my hand, beckoning me back.
“You’re gonna leave your own kin. Your own blood for some stranger you barely know?” She gestured rudely at Will, glaring at him over my shoulder. “If you think a man is going to save you, Maggie Mae, you’re even dumber than your mama.”
And for a moment, I understood. All my doubts about Will and me bubbled up, and I wondered, as I had days before, whether she was right. Maybe this was where I belonged. Maybe I was no better than her, like everyone had always said.
Bu
t then she leaned in, and I could smell the stale alcohol that tinged her breath. I could see how stained her teeth had become, the paper-like quality of her skin, the way her choices had taken a toll on her life, physically and mentally, and now, more than ever, were taking their toll on mine.
I couldn’t let her do it.
Maybe I wasn’t the bright-eyed eighteen-year-old I’d been when I left the first time. And maybe I wasn’t full of the bravado I’d had at twenty, when I promised her once before that I’d never come back unless she was sober. I knew even less now what my life had in store for me.
But I didn’t want to be her. I didn’t want to be trapped by her. And if I stayed here, that’s exactly what would happen.
I wasn’t looking for Will to save me. He was helping me save myself.
So I leaned out the window, and for a moment, clasped my hand to her face, my lips to her cheek.
“Good luck with the house, Mama,” I said. “When it’s dry…I’ll come back.”
“Margaret!”
But her cries were swallowed as I closed the window.
“Go, guys,” Will ordered, and with a rumble of dust, we were on our way.
16
I drove away from Newman Lake and into a new life. A completely new world.
A private plane with butter-soft leather seats.
A luxury SUV at a private airfield near Malibu.
And Will. It seemed like the closer we came to the low, concrete skyline of Los Angeles, the more he closed down again. He hadn’t spoken much on the flight, consumed with reviewing lines for the scene he was supposed to be filming that evening. The director had apparently scrambled the schedule to keep up their pace around his absence, but it meant that Will had a new call time later that night.
“It’s all on the soundstage,” he said when I asked if the time of day mattered. “It might mean paying the crew some overtime, but I doubt the studio cares about that more than going even further past the original schedule.”
I nodded. I didn’t mind the idea of having a bit of time to myself anyway. I’d been quiet through the fight too, content to watch the clouds for two hours, listen to music, and put the morning’s events aside. If I squeezed my eyes hard enough, I wouldn’t see my mother’s face contorted with hurt. If I turned the music loud enough, I wouldn’t hear her voice scratched with anger. Twenty-six years as Ellie Sharp’s daughter had made me an expert in the art of denial. And I had one more problem to solve anyway: what the hell I was going to do with myself once we were in LA?
“I’ll drop you at the hotel first,” Will said as we sped along the 101. We zoomed past Studio City (so said the signs) and eventually got off at an exit in what he said were the Hollywood Hills.
I was too entranced with the new scenery to reply. Though I had spent a bit of time touring up and down the East Coast, I had never been to Los Angeles, or even California.
“Look,” Will said, pointing up the hill from Mulholland Drive.
“Holy shit!” I crowed when the Hollywood sign came briefly into view. The pair of security guys in the front seats chuckled.
I turned to Will. “Aren’t you glad to be back here? Even a little? LA is pretty iconic.”
The sun shone through the window, lighting up Will’s face maybe more than he would have wanted. He leaned away, despite the fact that the tinted windows obscured him completely to the few people on the street.
“I…” He rubbed his face. “I like the work all right. I always did, even when I was a kid. I don’t think Dad would have let Mom drag me around to all those auditions, put me up for shows if I didn’t. It was fun, you know, pretending to be other people. Kind of like playing make-believe when I was little.”
I smiled. “Well, I’m glad of that, at least. You’re so talented.”
Will looked at me with pinked cheeks. “Please tell me you haven’t watched any of my films.”
I grinned wider and nuzzled into his shoulder. “Only every single one. Twice. I probably watched The End Zone about five times, actually. You’re a great leading man, especially when you’re wearing really tight pants that show off your—”
Will slapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me under his arm, then proceeded to tickle me mercilessly. His bodyguards chuckled while I broke down in hopeless giggles.
“Stop!” I shrieked. “It’s not my fault you have dreamy bedroom eyes and abs for days, Mr. Sexiest Man Alive!”
The security team started laughing openly.
“Ain’t that the one where you play the has-been quarterback who chases the weather girl?” one of them asked.
“She was a reporter,” I corrected him when Will released me only to flop his arm over his face. “And he was soooo dreamy. I really liked the part where you swept her into your arms and carried her to the top of the Empire State Building.”
“That’s right, that’s right. I just remember the goatee. You made a chin strap look all right for a white boy,” joked the driver. The other giant next to him guffawed.
“Shut up, Hakeem,” Will called, but they only laughed harder.
“Seriously, though,” I continued. “What was with the kiss at the end? All that lead-up, and then a closed-mouth peck. I know how you kiss, babe. That was like watching two fourth-graders.”
“The truth?” Will asked.
I nodded, and up front, Garrett and Hakeem quieted.
Will shrugged. “She had bad breath. She had eaten a bunch of onions before coming on set.”
My mouth dropped as the men up front erupted all over again.
“Are you serious?” I yelled with a punch to his shoulder. Will was actually red in the face, but grinning, like he was trying to hold back his laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Will said. He slouched back into his seat, but the dimple still apparent in his cheek told me he was already more relaxed than he’d been the entire flight. He gave me a dirty look that made me start giggling all over again. “I should French-kiss my co-star just to get back at you for watching that garbage. All the tongue I can muster up.”
At that, I stopped laughing, and eventually, so did Garrett and Hakeem. An awkward silence descended.
“Hey,” Will said. He sat up and laid a hand on my knee. “Lil, I was joking. Come on, I would never do that.”
“But, you will have to kiss her.”
It wasn’t really a question. Will had already confirmed there would be some kind of love scene with his ex-fiancée, Amelia Craig. And since I’d be watching the film, I’d have to watch that too.
Before he could answer, the SUV pulled to a stop. Hakeem punched a code into a keypad, and in front of us, a large white gate swung open onto a private drive that wound farther up the canyon.
“Lil, you don’t need to worry about that,” Will said. “I promise. I’ll eat the bag of onions before that scene. You can feed them to me yourself.”
I smirked. “You promise?”
Will grinned. “You bet,” he whispered in my ear.
We rode a little longer in awkward silence, until I caught the driver peering at me curiously.
“You guys are Garrett and…” I said, realizing I hadn’t been at all introduced to the people who had shadowed Will to Washington and back.
“Hakeem, ma’am,” said the driver with a tip of his fingers and pleasant, gleaming eyes through the mirror. “You’ll be seeing us around a lot.”
“Garrett and Hakeem are the security the studio is paying for while I’m here,” Will said. “Sorry, I should have introduced you earlier.”
“Yeah, he’s rude like that,” Garrett said with a grin.
“But you were in New York, too, though,” I said. “I recognize both of you.” I frowned. “And there was a third guy.”
“Benny made sure I got to choose my own security as part of my rider,” Will said. “But the studio would only cover two.”
“You make it sound like ’Keem and I can’t handle your business,” Garrett joked. “Because tailing your mopey ass between the
studio and your house is so damn hard.” He winked at me. “I hope you’re gonna give us a little more to do, Ms. Sharp.”
Despite Will’s groan, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll, um, see what I can do.”
The SUV stopped outside a broad white stucco house.
“Come on, Lily pad,” Will said. “We’re here.”
Garrett and Hakeem brought my things in the front door, then came back out as Will took my hand and helped me out of the back seat.
“We’ll be in the car,” Garrett said knowingly. “But Trish said four o’clock.”
Will scowled at the mention of his mother’s name.
“I thought she wasn’t dealing with this,” I said.
Will shook his head. “She’s not. But my mother manages to get her fingers into everything. I’ll have to call Benny.” He turned to Garrett. “Couple of minutes.”
He guided me into the house with a hand on the small of my back, and I was ready to interrogate him more about that kiss until I saw exactly what was waiting for me inside.
I stopped short as Will shut the door behind us. “Holy shit.”
There was a soft chuckle behind me.
I whirled around. “I thought you said we were going to a hotel.”
Will tossed his keys on a marble-topped console with bright blue legs. He looked around sheepishly. “It is a hotel. Sort of. It’s a short-term rental.”
I looked around, then stopped as I caught the view through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of the living room. They looked out onto an impossibly green backyard, full of blooming flowers and weeping vines. “It’s nicer than any rental I’ve ever seen.”
In a second, I was wrapped in his arms again, his chin resting on my shoulder while we looked out at the yard together.
“The studio owns it. They offered it to rent, and I said yes. It’s private, includes security, and gives us a few thousand square feet where you and I can pretend this litter box of a city doesn’t exist.” He turned me around so we were facing each other. “Would you like me to ask for some shitty cell block in West Hollywood, Lily pad?” he asked. “Would you be more comfortable some place where the blinds are shut?”
Indiscreet (The Discreet Duet Book 2) Page 17