Page 83 of Ruse
Maybe it’s both.
Regardless, the truth about him, which I’d always suspected but allowed myself to forget, was the wake-up call I needed to get myself out of this dream world I’d fallen into, and back to the harsh reality of life.
Life as a Bancroft, the golden child of a legendary family bred to be nothing shy of greatness. A family that not only fell into despair but disintegrated into nothingness.
But then there is Brooklyn. My brother who had once been my twin soul, yet now was unrecognizable. The way he looked at me, then back and forth between my father and Levi, then at Maverick, it’s like his eyes were devoid of all emotion. There was nothing. No grief, nor anger, not even any of the deflection he’d use as a coping mechanism. My brother was nonexistent, and after not having heard anything from him in hours, I didn’t know what to think.
I found myself parked outside of Cliffsides Malibu at five o’clock this morning, the sun still fast asleep. Having ignored all of Cassandra’s calls and texts since the last time I was here, I had no business coming to her now. But I had to. I’d called her the moment I pulled in, awoken her, and dragged her out here to let me in to see my mother. Despite everything that had transpired since the last time she practically kicked me out, this was the only place I thought of coming.
I creep down the hall to her bedroom, of course a two-bedroom suite she keeps to herself and find her lying fast asleep on the white four-poster bed with a sheer white canopy draped overhead when I walk into her room. The rest of the space, also stark white including the walls, furnishings, and modern art pieces hung on the walls, feels rather homey, nothing like a rehab facility would.
Without thinking about her reaction, I drop to my knees by the edge of her bed and begin sobbing uncontrollably into the mattress at her side. She immediately awakens, not in panic because I’ve startled her in her sleep, but ready to comfort me in my moment of need. Her arms wrap around me as she cradles me against her, picking me up to sit on the bed beside her. The mattress dips as I lay atop it, my head buried deep into the crook of her neck, as her fingers run gently through my hair.
“Mama,” I cry into her neck, sniffling as I try to talk through the tears.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” she murmurs, and for the first time her voice sounds soft and warm like a mother’s voice should. It only makes me cry harder to know that she’s in there, the mother I always knew existed and loved. The mother I always wished to have is inside of her, comforting me when I need it the most.
I look up into her eyes before resting against her chest. “Mama, it hurts, it hurts so much. I know why you did it, why you couldn’t take the pain and wanted to shut it all off. I can’t Mama, the pain, it’s like I’m falling apart inside, being torn apart and ripped at the seams. I don’t think I can survive this.”
Suddenly she sits me up, gripping my arms tightly, her fingernails digging into my skin. “Don’t you dare say that Phoenix,” she shouts, her eyes red and filled with tears. “You are the strongest woman I know. You are so special, baby girl. So smart, kind, and brave. Do not give up like your weak-willed mother did. You are so much more than I ever was Phoenix, than I ever could have been.”
I throw my arms around her and in an instant, she’s embracing me too, both of us broken, grieving, and falling apart because of a man. Because of two. One who was supposed to protect me my entire life, be the one man I was supposed to be able to trust, to love unconditionally because he would never hurt me, while the other I chose to give a part of me I could never get back. My heart, soul, and unconditional trust even when everything inside of me told me I was naïve, crazy, to do it.
I chose Maverick because of how he made me feel, like I was the most important girl in the world, yet he left me battered and bruised on the inside like I was worthless.
My mother leans back against the headboard, sitting in her ivory silk nightgown, my head resting atop her lap over the plush white down comforter. “I don’t know how to move on from his betrayal, mama. He used me, played with my feelings like I was disposable. A means to an end in his revenge plan against dad.” I inhale sharply, swallowing the lump in my throat that burns dry as I try to speak. “I should have seen it coming, I knew from the start there was something he was planning but I let myself be blinded by his beauty, tricked by his affectionate words and touch. It was all a ruse he put together to make me fall for him and pay for my father’s sins. The worst part mama, I saw it coming. I was the only fool in all of this. The naïve, gullible little girl who would do anything at the sign of affection.”
My mother kisses the top of my head, something she’s never done, not even when I was a baby. “I’m so sorry, baby. We did this to you. Your father and I didn’t appreciate you and your brother the way we should have. We were selfish, putting our own wants and needs above yours. I will never forgive myself for that, but I promise I will do whatever it takes to do better by you.”
We’re silent for a moment, neither one of us knowing what to say next, emotionally drained and exhausted. “Come home mama,” I whisper, quietly into the air. “I need you. I don’t want to go back to his house, I can’t go back and act like I don’t know what I know.”
She reaches down and cradles my face between her palms, shifting me over to gaze at her. The softness within her baby blue eyes, red and tired yet for once in their life, hopeful. Warmth settles inside my stomach as the scent of vanilla and rose petals, a scent that reminds me of a simpler time my only worry was not getting caught sneaking into her shower to steal some of her signature shampoo and conditioner, hoping that using it would make me as beautiful as she was.
Placing a tender kiss on my forehead she nods her head. “I promise dear, I’ll be out of here soon, but I won’t be coming home. Actually…” she pauses, visibly at war looking for the best way to tell me whatever it is she’s going to say. “I’ve purchased two properties, one here in Malibu Cove for you and your brother to move into, after all you are both eighteen and I know are only at home with your father because you can’t afford to leave. But I’ll change that, I promise. My father, your grandfather has agreed to make your inheritance available now, instead of making you wait till you marry like he did to me. I didn’t choose to marry your father because I loved him, sadly I wanted to leave my father’s strict household and marrying Austin was the only way I knew how.”
“Thank you, mama, for thinking of us. For putting us first.”
“Of course, my dear, I’m just sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”
“What about the other property?”
I shift off her lap when she doesn’t immediately respond, worry settling inside of me at her reluctance to speak. “It’s in Florida, along the beach, beautiful weather year-round, similar to Malibu Cove, yet completely far away from your father and the constant reminder of the life I had here that is now in shambles. I’m healed darling but I’m afraid what stepping back into my old life will do to my mental health. I have a room for you there and one for your brother to come stay with me whenever you want. I promise I’ll call you every day and you can spend holidays with me, but I can’t have you ask me to stay here.”
“I'll be alone mom, without you, with Brooklyn not acting himself. I have no one.”
“My dear, you’re not alone. He came to see me last week.” I freeze at what she’s saying. “Maverick, he came to apologize for what his mother did, for keeping quiet when he knew what was happening. He was just a boy, a baby still, I don’t blame him for keeping quiet out of fear or to keep his mother safe. I would have put you and your brother in that position, but I also wouldn’t have put the blame on you if he had.”
Tears well in my eyes, the thought of Maverick coming to see my mother and apologize for something he had no fault in. That doesn't seem like the Maverick who showed his true colors, it reminds me of the Maverick I grew to love.
Love.
That’s what it was although I refused to call it by its true name and instead by every other name possible.
Affection. Desire. Want. Lust. Infatuation. Obsession.
It was love. It is love, because sadly even after all that’s happened, I still feel the same way inside.
“I don’t understand.”
