Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

“What I meant was,” Mateo continued, completely undeterred, “what if X isn’t just a fill-in—what if it stands for a real person? Like the X is short for Xander or Xavier or something? Wouldn’t it be worth looking into? Maybe even tracking him down?”

Tommy frowned. It made sense. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“But how would we even begin?” Layla asked, and Tommy breathed easier knowing Layla didn’t just automatically applaud everything Mateo said. She was no lapdog. She was too smart for that.

“Good point,” Aster chimed in. “She kept him a secret, which means he probably didn’t go to her high school. So where would we even begin? Maybe we should look up Dalton instead? Or even those friends she mentioned in that first entry—Jessa and Emma, I think they were?”

“Didn’t Trena do a story on Madison’s past?” Ryan asked. “I seem to remember her interviewing the people who raised Madison, along with her group of friends back in Connecticut.”

“She did, and I read it.” Layla nodded. “But I don’t remember any mention of a mysterious X in Trena’s article. Which was pretty much Madison’s whole point, right? I mean, from the way she writes about him—” Layla reached for the laptop and took a moment to skim the entry she’d written. “The part about him having no future sounds like he might be from the wrong side of the tracks, which is probably one of the reasons she kept him a secret. Like he didn’t correspond with the image she was trying to project. And so I doubt she would’ve told anyone about him. That’s not how it works.”

At that, Tommy cast a sharp glance her way. Clearly Layla should know, being an authority on secret lovers. Question was: Who was the secret lover in her world—him or Mateo?

“Hey, Javen—” Aster looked toward her little brother, who was off in a corner, hunched over his computer. “What are the chances of you locating a guy between the ages of fifteen and thirty-five who may or may not live in the town Madison grew up in and who goes by the name of X, which may or may not be his real name?”

Without missing a beat, Javen said, “About as good as you agreeing to read the first fifty pages of The Great Gatsby, which I need to be proficient in by first period tomorrow.”

“Just a thought . . .” Mateo shrugged, prompting Tommy to smirk, and Layla to shake her head and roll her eyes at Tommy for smirking.

“Though I will run a search on Dalton, and let you know what I find.”

“What about all that stuff about Paul, or P as she calls him, and their destinies being entwined because of the choices they made six years before. You think that’s just histrionic teenager talk, or do you think it’s real?” Tommy snuck a peek at Layla, feeling proud to have asked a valid question as opposed to the nonsense Mateo had come up with.

“I think there could be something to it,” Layla said, checking her laptop again. “Six years before the time the entry was written puts Madison at age eight. Same age she was when her house burned down and she lost her parents. Do you think she had something to do with it?”

“You mean like, she murdered her own parents as a child and an adult helped her cover the crime—is that what you’re saying?” Ryan looked appalled, and while Tommy agreed it was indeed appalling, they should at least take a moment to consider it.

“She writes that he put his life on the line, that he knows all her secrets.” Layla frowned. “What else could it mean?”

“Maybe it was an accident,” Aster said. “Maybe she was playing with matches or something and the next thing she knew her house was in flames.”

“Maybe,” Tommy conceded. “But is that really worth working so hard to bury and invent an entirely new past for yourself?”

“Maybe it was the only way she could adjust. Maybe—”

“I’m hearing a whole lot of maybes,” Mateo interjected.

“Just trying to build a theory, bro.” Tommy scowled.

“Well, maybe,” Layla emphasized the word, “Mateo is right. And maybe it’s better if we stick with the facts that we know, which are that Paul helped Madison out of a jam when she was eight, and their lives have been entwined ever since.”

Mateo nodded, seemingly pleased. Tommy nodded too, but only because he knew Layla was annoyed with him.

They all fell quiet for a moment until Javen piped up. “If anyone’s up for a little road trip, I think I just found our first real lead.” He wagged his eyebrows and grinned, as Aster bounced from the couch and went to stand beside him. “Turns out, Paul kept a cabin. A rather remote cabin, way out in Joshua Tree.”

Aster pumped her foot against the rug, making a dull thumping sound. “Are you sure? Because that just seems so unlikely. It’s just such a hipster, whiskey-swilling, spiritual-seeking, boho-chic getaway . . . and from what we know about Paul, he doesn’t seem like the type to hang in a place like that.” Her skeptical tone matched her expression.

“But what do we really know about Paul?” Tommy came to rest on the arm of the couch. “The guy’s a fixer, which probably makes him a little scary to deal with, but does that also mean he lacks appreciation for deeper meditation on the meaning of life or even the occasional whiskey shot?”

Layla rolled her eyes, which wasn’t exactly the reaction Tommy was after. Then she turned to everyone else and said, “Does anyone have a picture of Paul, so we can at least know who we’re looking for?” A second later, Ryan whipped out his phone and passed it around. By the time it reached Layla, she gasped. “Oh my God, I know him.”

The room fell silent, as five heads swiveled toward her, waiting for her to explain.

“He’s the one who served me the restraining order that Madison filed against me.”

“Are you sure?” Mateo’s voice was just caring enough, and just gentle enough, to make Tommy seethe.

“Definitely.” Layla continued to study the picture. “I mean, he’s so beige he’s easy to forget, and yet I have a really similar picture.” After scrolling through the pics on her phone, she held it up beside Ryan’s. “Tell me this isn’t the same guy.”