Chapter 17: Smart Girls Triage

Marley, February

I sip a glass of chardonnay and as I pad barefoot to the windows of Kade's downtown Nashville condo and survey the view.

During the day, mostly what can be seen are cranes and construction workers, as dozens more high-rises race toward completion in the Gulch, downtown Nashville's trendiest new neighborhood.

But right now—long after dark at this time of year—the view is lovely. All the new buildings are gorgeously lit. Strung lights and firepits warm rooftop bars of some of the most impressive hotels, and the thrum of the city can be seen, far above where it can be heard.

It's quiet up here, except for the jazz I'm playing.

A mile away at the honkeytonks down on Broadway, the music is pouring from the open windows of every bar.

That's where the dreamers go to be discovered, the tourists gather to sing along, the industry people seek the next big names in music, and occasionally, a famous band slams down a round of shots and gets up from the table to play an impromptu set.

The thought of Soundcrush doing that makes me smile. It's highly possible they've surprised fans at one of those bars.

Just two weeks ago, Kade and I sat in a tiny little VIP section of one of those honkeytonks with Adam and Mac, while Mac tried to goad Adam to claim the stage and do a solo of their duet that's currently a top-40 hit. He wouldn't, for the simple reason that he physically can't seem to bring himself to leave her side, right now.

It's funny how life can move along at a snail's pace and then the pace suddenly picks up. For years, my life was mundane. Work, work some more, parent, repeat. To say the pace has picked up in the last eight months since Bodie and Adam wandered into my bar is an understatement. Five months ago, Mac was screaming at me in Martha's Vineyard. Now, we are actually friends.

Although I still think it's funny how she thinks she could take me in a fight.

Ain't no way. Not even in her best fighting form at her maddest.

Right now, it wouldn't even be a contest. She's adorably soft and pregnant. She's due in just a couple of weeks and the pregnancy has been difficult.

Even our double date with them was nothing more than a quick dinner and a swift drink, Adam quickly hustling us from a bright yellow limo, in and out of the back entrance of his favorite three story bar on Broadway. One of the newer, less rowdy, music-oriented honkeytonks.

The remembrance of our double date only sends my mind to the place where it always wonders when I am alone.

I pick up my phone, unable to resist. I thumb to my text thread with Bodie.

I read the last text he sent me from Thailand, about six weeks ago:

Merry Christmas, Jaz. I hope you get everything your heart desires.

I scroll through all of my messages to him since—boring inquiries about how he is, where is he, when he's coming back to the States.

All have gone unanswered.

I decide to ask him something less personal, more fun, in the hopes that maybe the novelty will get him to reply.

Hey drummer boy, I'm wondering...has Soundcrush ever played in a Nashville Honkeytonk?

I wait, and sip, and wait, for at least fifteen minutes. The text, like the others I have sent since Christmas, goes unread.

Adam says he thinks Bodie probably lost his phone somewhere in a remote part of Thailand, and hasn't bothered to find a way to get an new Iphone. And he probably doesn't know any of our numbers by heart, if he's replaced it with a local burner.

I think he's only saying that so that Mac doesn't worry.

I release a heavy breath and toss my phone down on Kade's modern, camel-colored, leather couch. Just as I return to the view, I hear the door open behind me. The sounds of Kade dumping his backpack med kit and shrugging off his leather jacket are easily discerned.

I grin at the Nashville skyline. "You're late, Dr. Thomas. Our dinner reservations have come and gone."

I don't really mind. I've already had Thai delivered, and it's warming in the oven.

"Can you believe some high as fuck punk decided to roll up into my ER in need of emergency surgery in the last fifteen minutes of my shift?" he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

I laugh. "Not another rock star?"

On our double date, Mac told me the story of Adam's birthday disaster last summer—the confusion with his family and the band over her pregnancy, Adam's bad idea cocaine pain relief and his nearly ruptured appendix. It was hilarious—especially with Kade's clinical interjections and Adam's growly rebuttals.

Mac and I had a good laugh at Adam's expense. She likes me a lot more now that I poke fun at him with her.

"Not this time," Kade response. "A fifteen year old with bad taste in drugs and poor balance. Crashed in a skate bowl and send a couple ribs stabbing into his left lung. But enough about Skater Boy-he'll be fine. I have to tell you, I'm almost glad I'm late. Seeing you like this...all comfy and casual here at my place... you are a damn sweet sight to come home to."

I take a long gulp and a deep breath. In the last few weeks, Kade's distinctly rock star cool demeanor is growing warmer and warmer, when we are together. Despite the fact that we both agreed we would keep things casual.

It's not that I don't like Kade. I do. What the hell is not to like? He's handsome, smart, kind, intelligent, fun, and very very sexy.

He's a freakin' catch.

But when Kade puts his hands on me, I have to force away the image of a certain butterscotched, amber-eyed, designer-dreadhead drummer.

I have to willfully, deliberately, and emphatically exorcise Bodie from my brain, to relax into Kade's embrace.

I know it's just a...flashback feeling, I'm having for Bodie. I know his grip on my emotions will fade with time. It did once before.

I just don't know if it's fair to use Kade to make that happen.

Still, I'm here tonight. Kade and I have to work damn hard to make time for each other...between our work schedules and my real life back home with Darius. I do enjoy Kade's company, and...we are both grown-ups. We both know what this is.

This is easy. This is fun. This is no strings dating with good sex to fill the physical loneliness once every couple of weeks.

This is not love.

This is a repeat swipe-right.

Right?

I was sure of that last time I was here. But the tone in his voice tonight is different.

The way he pauses, drinking me in, is different. The way he moves toward me, with less swagger but more deliberateness, is different. The way he takes my wine glass from me, staring down at me as he finishes it—more intimate. The way he presses his forehead to mine—it reminds me of the way Bodie did that, in the shower, after I bathed him—

I pull back. I search Kade's face. "Bad day? More than Skater Boy?" Maybe he's just seeking a little comfort.

His lips curl into a perfect smile. "Not really."

"Worried about Jonathon?" He's got a kid on the heart transplant list, who might not get to the top on time.

"No...I mean, yeah...but it's not that. It's just...I'm damn glad to see you. I...I missed you, Marley." He sounds surprised at his own admission.

"Oh. Well, I missed you too." It's not exactly a lie. It's not like I burn for him when we are apart, but what we've fallen into is nice. Kind of like...with Marc, but with enthusiastic sex.

Well, enthusiastic once I get Bodie out of my head.

Fuck.

Bodie.

Get out of my head, dude.

I smile at Kade and ease away, to pour him a glass of wine. He follows me to the immaculate kitchen that he never cooks in.

After one long swallow, he sets down the glass and pulls me into his arms. "Dance with me," he says, embracing me gently and swaying to the Ella Fitzgerald song that's playing.

Okay, romance is a little new. Our third date sex was charged and lusty but not really very sweet, and it's pretty much been that way the last four times I've seen him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask him mildly as I soften into his arms.

"Yeah," he says hoarsely.

"Hungry?" I prompt. "There's Thai..."

"Later," he murmurs.

"Okay,"I grin. I guess it's sex first tonight.

Except it's not. Kade refills our wine glasses and draws me to the couch, turning down the lights. Somewhat awkwardly, I fold into his arms as he trails his fingers through my hair.

He wants to snuggle? Where the hell is Dr. Call Me Kade, who likes to drink me under the table in honkeytonks and sex me on the foyer table after?

"I've been thinking about you all day. All week, really," he murmurs. "And it made me realize...how into you I really am. I'm not seeing anybody else, Marley. The idea has just sort of...faded away in these last few months. You want to make this dating thing official? Exclusive? Real?"

The pause is awkward.

"Wow," he said. "Okay." He starts to sit up from our folded position. "I guess not."

I sigh and turn toward him, crossing my legs and giving him my full attention.

"I really like you a lot. So much, Kade," I tell him.

He nods and reaches for his wine glass. "But..."

"But I have a son. My life is there, with him. Your life, your career, that's here. We agreed, this is just...casual."

"Just casual," he says somewhat grimly and finishes his glass. "That's just...bullshit, Marley. You're not a casual kind of girl. I'm not a casual kind of guy. You're the most grounded woman I've ever met. And we both know, I'm fucking intense. This doesn't feel casual to me. I want to get...real with you."

"I...I don't know what to say, Kade. I'm happy where we are."

That's the truth. I don't do...real. I was prepared to marry casual.

"I thought this could be...going somewhere." He searches my face. "What's the real obstacle here? Because I don't think it's a couple of hundred miles. Or even your son, because you know I've told you..."

"Yes, I know. You've told me you were ready to meet him." In fact, Kade told me he liked the idea that Darius is an older kid. Kade's not super jazzed at the idea of babies. He told me right off the bat—he appreciates my independence, the fact that I have my own career, my own life—and that I'm not in babydaddy search mode like most unmarried women looking at thirty.

I'm not a place in my career right now that I feel like would be good to think about a family of my own, he said. But your kid? A thirteen year old? With his own life, friends, interests? I'm definitely down to hang with a teenager as much as he would want to hang with his mom and the guy she's seeing...

"Well?" Kade says, a little aggressively, which doesn't bother me. He feels rejected. A guy like him? He's definitely not used to it.

"Kade, I think what we have...I think it's going great. I really do." I climb to my knees and kiss him. He sighs and kisses me back briefly but tenderly. Then he eases away.

"But you're not ready to take the next step," he probes.

"No," I admit. "Darius...right now, he's my priority. He's been through a lot this past year—with me breaking off my engagement, and then...his father coming back into his life."

"You said that was going okay. That his father was respecting the boundaries that you set up. That Darius was slowly getting to know him."

"Yes, it's going okay. But Daemon is...an intense kind of guy, too. I don't want to rock the boat in any way with him, right now."

Realization breaks on Kade's face. "This isn't about your son. This is about your ex. He doesn't know you're seeing someone."

I grab my wine glass and swallow.

"Marley..."

"No, okay, he doesn't."

"What does he think about all these weekend trips to Nashville?" he says quizzically.

"Well, it doesn't come up, because I only come to see you when Darius is sleeping over at friends or has something going on that his uncle is supervising. I don't have to worry about interacting with Daemon, under those circumstances. But it's none of Daemon's business who I see."

"That's been your big scheduling conflict? Hiding the fact that we are dating from your ex?" Kade exclaims. It's the first time I have seen the slightest irritation from him during our several months of dating.

"You don't understand, Kade. What he's like. Or at least, what he was like. He was a gang leader. A drug dealer. A...a killer, Kade."

He frowns. "You're afraid of him."

"I'm definitely afraid of the man he used to be. I'm trying to learn the Daemon that's come out of prison. I'm trying to figure out if he has changed too. I don't want to be with him ever again, but if he has changed, and I deny Darius the view of that..."

"Yeah, I get it. Believing that your father is a reformed man is a fuck ton better than thinking he's a criminal for life."

"Yes," I say. "But I don't want to put anyone that I care about at risk, while I make sure what's the real truth."

"What does your gut tell you about him?" Kade asks.

I sigh and stare into the distance. "That he is trying to live straight, for Darius' sake. But that he's still manipulative and territorial and dangerous."

We drink our wine in silence. After a while, Kade rises, and opens another bottle. He pours us two more glasses. He takes my hand.

"I'm probably a glutton for punishment, but everything you've said to me...instead of making me want to back off, it makes me want to ask you..."

"Kade," I warn, shaking my head, pulling my hand away.

He keeps hold. "To ask you," he repeats, "to consider moving to Nashville with your son. I could help you get a much better job, Marley. A position at Vanderbilt. I could help you find an apartment close-by."

I shake my head. "No way could I afford a place like this," I say.

"No, not as big or new as this," he agrees, "But if Darius went to one of the very good public schools here, you could afford a nicer place than you think, without the burden of private school tuition."

"I can't just...relocate with Darius," I say. "His grandmother, his uncle..."

"Are not his parents. You are. You told me Pat's legal guardianship was dissolved when you graduated from college. And his father has no parental rights. There's no reason you couldn't relocate with Darius."

"Except that he would hate me for it," I nearly hiss, rising, moving away from Kade. "No, Kade. That's a bad idea."

"Kids his age are very adaptable. And you said he loves music...there is no better place for a musical kid to explore his creativity than Nashville," he argues. "You might be surprised. He might love it here. At the very least, why don't you start finding out? Why don't you bring him up here? We can take him to some shows, introduce him to the city, he and I can get to know each other..."

"No," I shake my head adamently. "No. It's too soon. We've only been dating a couple of months."

"Four months," Kade corrects.

"We've had eight dates."

"They haven't been dates, they've been weekends, Marley. And we aren't college kids. Jesus, I think we're both old enough and wise enough to see we are a great fit." He's getting angry again.

"We are," I agree, dropping back down beside him. "We are a great fit, Kade. I...care about you. I'm happy with you."

"Then what's the problem here?"

My phone buzzes beside Kade on the couch. With an incoming call. My eyes flit to it, and before I can help myself, I'm grabbing it up and answering.

"Bodie!" I exclaim.

"Jasmine," he growls at me. "Where the fuck are you right now and what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What!?!? What are you talking about? I'm in Nashville. Where are you?"

"That's fucking great! You're in Nashville, playin' doctor with Kade? I'm in Atlanta. I just met Darius. Took a goddamn gun out of his hands. A gun that he fucking fired at me!"

"What!?!?!" I screech. "Is he okay?"

"Is he okay? Is he okay? Are you fucking kidding me!?!?"

"Well, obviously you are okay because if you were dead, or half dead, you wouldn't be screaming at me!" I scream at him. "Is Darius okay?"

"He's not physically hurt, no. But he ain't okay. He ain't safe. What the fuck, Marley? He doesn't live with you? He lives with the Turners? With his gang-banger father? You never fucking said that! I thought you were parenting him!" He practically screams into the phone.

"He doesn't—" I protest, but Kade is grabbing the phone.

"Bodie? What the fuck? Why are you yelling at Marley?"

"Because she's fucking up, that's why!" Bodie yells back. Even though he's not on speaker phone, I can hear him perfectly. "This ain't your business, man. Put Jaz back on the goddamn phone."

"Jaz?" Kade says blankly.

"Marley!" Bodie yells in frustration. "Put Marley back on the phone!"

"Fuck that, not until you calm down!" Kade yells back at him.

"I swear to fuck, Kade, if you don't hand Marley the goddamn phone right now, I will come to Nashville and kick your white doctor ass!"

"Come on then, you drug-stealing junkie-fucker!" Kade yells back.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yell at Kade, snatching the phone from Kade.

"Bodie, where is Darius right now?"

"Sitting at Pat's table, getting yelled at." Bodie snarls. "And when she's done, then it's my turn, boy, because you damn near killed me! Jesus Christ, I'm so fucking sick of getting shot at!" he growls.

"Oh Bodie," I whimper.

"Oh Bodie?" Kade echoes in disbelief.

"I thought you were a robber," I hear Darius say, his voice tight and high. He's scared, I can tell.

"He doesn't know you. Don't yell at him, Bodie," I warn.

"Don't yell at him?" Bodie yells at me. "Don't yell at him? He needs to be yelled at! He shot at me through the window while I was standing on the front porch."

"I said I was really, really sorry. I...I didn't know you, and you were banging on the door!" Darius spits out. "But I just meant to...to scare you. I The trigger...I thought it would be harder to squeeze...they always say it's hard to squeeze...I...I thought you were a robber! "

"Robbers don't knock politely on the goddamn door, boy!" Bodie yells.

"I...know...I know...I get that now..." Darius stammers. "I just...I was nervous. I've never been home alone...and you were all...twitchy and your dreads look all...nappy. I thought you were some homeless person on drugs..."

"I've been living rough in a third world country for four months and right now, I'm...I'm...jet-lagged is all," Bodie says defensively.

I hear Pat's familiar snort of derision. "Boy, you are a liar if I've ever seen one. I oughtta call your mama right now and tell her you are standing here high and yellin' like a crazy person in my kitchen."

"I'm yelling because the boy almost shot me!" Bodie yells.

"Why was he home alone!?!?" I yell into the phone.

"He's thirteen years old," Bodie says switching gears. "Plenty old enough to be home alone and know how to talk to someone through a locked door without goddamn shooting at them! What the hell, Pat? What are you teaching him?"

"You better watch yourself Bodie Jamison," I hear Pat yell in the background. "I've had enough of your yellin' and your foul language. You better sit down and calm down before I get my cast iron skillet and knock your ugly block off your shoulders!"

"Why was he home alone!?!?" I yell into the phone. Kade tries to move toward me, like he's going to soothe me, but I shirk away with irritation and pace the floor.

"Apparently," Bodie says, the first calm word out of his mouth, "He was left with his father. Who had to go do some business. At 11pm. I ask you, what kind of business do you think Daemon has at this time of night, Jasmine?"

Pat responds for me. "What kind of fool comes knocking on a stranger's door at this time of night?"

"I came straight off a flight from Thailand. I went to Marley's apartment first. Then I came here. And Pat Turner, I ain't no stranger to this house. I been in this house more times that I can count."

"And then we haven't seen one dread on your head for thirteen years. You're a stranger now, Bodie Jamison," Pat slings at him.

I'm listening to the conversation but stinging heat is pouring down through my body. "Bodie, you're sure he was there alone with Daemon? He was supposed to be at a sleepover with friends, and Pat was supposed to pick him up from there tomorrow..."

"All I'm sure of is he was home alone and he shot at me. But yeah, that's what he said. He said his dad went out to do business. Pat got here after I took the gun from him."

"Where is TJ?" I whisper. "Or Shay?"

"I don't know," Bodie says with irritation. "Why's it everybody's job but yours to watch your kid?"

Anger and shame burn through me. "Don't you fucking judge me, Bodie Jamison. You have enough of your own shit to worry about."

I hear a door slam, and then quiet, like Bodie has stepped outside.

"What if Darius is my shit to worry about?"

My heart feels racy. Why is it when Darius comes up between us, everything I know to be true feels like it's called into question?

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I'm getting at. You know exactly why I'm here knocking on doors to find you. To find him."

Fear grips me. Why is he doing this? Acting as if he could be Darius' father when I know he's not? When I told him he's not?

"Just...just stop it, Bodie."

Silence. Then much more calmly, "Okay. You're right. It's not the time, the place for that. But Marley, I really think you should come home now. 'Cause Pat is actin' like this is my fault, for scaring him, and the kid needs to understand how serious this is...and where the fuck did he get the gun from? I've asked and he ain't sayin'. But I damn sure know where I got my first gun. From his...from Daemon."

Rage and fear and complete frustration burns through me. I feel furious. I feel helpless. As little as I trust Daemon, I just can't believe he would put a gun in the hands of our thirteen year old son. What about all the "change" he's been talking about?

But Bodie is right. Darius got the gun from somewhere. I need to know where. I need to understand what Darius was thinking when he fired that gun.

I'm fighting back tears as I growl, "I can't fucking believe this. What was Darius thinking, raising a gun, pulling the trigger? You could have been killed."

"I know," Bodie says calmly.

"And Daemon...he would have been responsible, if he gave him the gun, but Darius would have had to live with the accountability of that. For the rest of his life."

"I know," he says more softly.

"Put my idiot son on the damn phone."

"That's right, Mama," Bodie sighs. "You gotta get fierce. This is a tough love situation, for sure. But it ain't a phone conversation situation."

"You are absolutely right," I hiss. "Tell my son I'll be right the fuck there to discuss this. Well, you can leave out the fuck part."

His chuckle rolls toward me through the phone.

"Marley," Bodie says more softly. "It's Friday night, almost midnight, you're on a date in a party town...tell me...you been drinkin' tonight?"

Part of me wants to ask him if he's been druggin', but I know that's not relevant at this particular moment, and I also know he's just concerned about my safety.

"Yes," I admit. The truth is, while waiting on Kade, I've probably had nearly a bottle of wine. "Kade had a last minute surgery, I was waiting for him at his place, killin' time. One glass led to another..."

"You don't have explain, girl. You deserve to have...a life. I'm sorry about what I said earlier...about everyone watching Darius but you. I...I know it can't be easy, being a single parent..." he trails off, and then regroups with a firmer tone. "Look, text me the address. Somebody will be there to pick you up in half an hour."

"That's not necessary...you won't even be able to get a driver at this time of night..."

"Marley, you have no idea what I can make happen," he growls. "You aren't driving buzzed. End of discussion."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Alright, I see you when you get here."

That's when I realize, what he's saying. He's planning to stay there? What's he going to do—camp out on Pat's couch, all night?

That...that's not going to work. Between myself, TJ, Pat, there will be too many cooks in that kitchen...when Daemon gets back from his "business."

Oh god, Daemon. What happens when Daemon finds an irate Bodie waiting there to confront him?

I don't want to know. I can't let that happen.

"Bodie, I...I need you to do something for me right now."

"Yeah?" he says like he's surprised, then "Yeah. Of course. Anything you need, girl. I'm here."

"I need you to...go."

"Go." Bodie repeats without tone. "Go." He says again, this time with resentment. "Just walk away? From this?"

"Bodie, I understand how...bad this is. I understand you are angry..."

"I'm not angry, Marley!" He yells at me. "I'm fucking scared shitless! Not just because he grazed my arm. For Darius! For you! For the fucked up way he's being raised!"

"It's not fucked up!" I say defensively, with a raised voice. "This is an awful situation, but Darius has been raised right. He has always been taken care of. Loved. This is...not...representative. This is...I...I can't explain what happened tonight—"

"I can," Bodie growls. "With two fucking words. Daemon Turner."

May be. Maybe Bodie is exactly right. It's where my thoughts run, too, but the parent and the counselor in me knows I have to examine the full picture of this situation before I make rash parenting decisions.

The Jasmine in me—she only wants Bodie to get the hell out of there before Daemon comes back home and gives Bodie the same welcome as Darius did.

But with deadly intent and much better aim.

"Okay, yes, I think so, too. But Bodie, I am begging you...please do not stay there and confront Daemon. That will only make all this...so much worse. Please. Just...take the gun out of the house and leave Darius with Pat. He's perfectly fine there with her. She's his grandmother. She has raised him. She will deal with this, until she and I and TJ can handle it together."

Bodie makes a sound of scoffing indignation, but then huffs. "Fine. I'll go. But Marley...we ain't finished talking. Now that I've seen the boy..." he trails off as my heart starts to race again at his implication.

I know what he's thinking. I've looked at Darius so many times, searching his features. Every now and again, I see a flash of expression in his eyes, and I want to think what Bodie is thinking right now.

That somehow, despite the irrefutable test that proves Darius' paternity—that somehow Darius is Bodie's son and not Daemon's.

"Bodie, he's Daemon's son. I'll show you the paternity test results if you want..."

"I don't give a good goddamn about what some budget lab test administered by prison guards said. You and me...we ain't finished talking."

As Bodie hangs up, I realize with wincing regret where I am. Who I'm with. What I just said out loud.

For a moment there was only me and Bodie and a very intimate situation.

Now, my surroundings are coming back into focus. Kade's presence at my back feels...vivid.

I turn slowly. Kade is staring at me.

"You got all that?" I say slowly.

Kade's smile is somewhat bitter as he swipes the wine bottle carelessly, pouring another glass. "Most of it. The yelling made it easy."

He offers me the glass, but when I wave it away with a murmur of "no thanks" he swallows it in three long gulps.

"So...your son is okay?" he asks mildly.

"No, he's clearly not okay," I say. "He picked up a gun and shot at a stranger through a window. What made him think he had to, or should, do that? No, he's not okay. And it's my fault. I...I'm failing him."

Kade shakes his head. "Look, everything in me tells me you are good mother. You can't own this. Believe me, I see it all the time with kids in the ER.

"Tragic things. Freak accidents, series of unlikely events tumbling to the worst possible outcome.

"They don't always happen because parents are neglectful or making bad choices. Shit happens and you can't control it."

He shrugs. "To be perfectly honest with you, it's why I don't want kids. Being a doctor, I see how much can go wrong. I lose my shit when I lose a patient. There's no way I can handle...the lack of control...of being a parent."

I stare at him. "I...I didn't know you felt that way...that you didn't want kids."

He swallows more wine in heavy gulps and gives me another rueful smile. "It's not usually something I lead with, on a first date. It tends to put chics off. But I won't lie...knowing that Darius is a teenager, that you love him, but you have had to sacrifice so much to raise him..."

I nod, realization dawning. "You thought I might not want any more kids. That after raising Darius, I would want...my youth back."

He shrugs. "The thought crossed my mind. It seemed a little premature to discuss, but I figured at the very least, you don't seem chomping to settle down and make babies, like my last few girlfriends."

I stare at him. "Kade, why are you telling me this? That you can't handle the idea of parenting, when I am in the middle of a very serious situation concerning my son? Because you are not really the douchey type, but this is pretty...nonsupportive."

He puts the wine glass down very carefully. He's very tense as he rakes his hands through his hair and crosses his arms in front of his body. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to give you a graceful exit. Sounds like you have unfinished business with Bodie. A lot of...loose ends."

I clasp my hands together, so I don't gesture wildly, which is what I tend to do while discussing this situation. This is not easy to talk about—the fact that I did not know for certain who the father of my unborn baby was. But Kade is a good man, and I care about him, and he deserves honesty from me.

"Look, I know what you overheard sounds like a lot of drama, but I haven't been dishonest with you. I just haven't shared every difficult personal thing about myself, just like you haven't shared everything personal about yourself. It was a long a time ago, that I was a pregnant teen who wasn't one hundred percent sure who her baby-daddy was. The truth is, a paternity test proved that Daemon is Darius father, but—"

He cuts me off, "I get it now, Marley. Bodie was another one of those bad choices you made when you were Jasmine, huh?"

"Bodie was not a bad choice," I snap with more harshness than I mean to.

Kade eyes widen slightly and then he nods tersely. "Okay, now I really get it. All that stuff you said earlier...not being ready to be exclusive, it wasn't about Darius or Daemon, was it?" His voice is sad but soft. "You and Bodie? Still?"

I don't owe Kade any explanations over whether or not I've been with Bodie, but it's the decent thing to be honest with Kade about my feelings. "I have...unresolved feelings for Bodie, from a lifetime ago. He also...maybe...has unresolved feelings. It doesn't matter. I decided it's not going anywhere."

Kade looks up at the ceiling. He sighs heavily. "You mean, because of his drug problem. You decided he's not someone that needs to be around your son, but that has nothing to do with the way you feel."

"Yes." I say hoarsely.

Kade shakes his head and runs a hand over his chin. "What if you helped him? What if he got clean?"

"What?"

"How would you feel about Bodie if he got clean?"

Tension swarms as we stare at each other. Finally, I look away. "That's not fair, Kade."

He pours more wine. "That's an evasion."

I snort. Maybe Kade chose the wrong specialty. He's as good at analyzing people as he is at cutting them open.

Suddenly, I am saved by text from an unknown angel:

Dr. Watkins, my name is Paul Clarkson, from Assure Security. I'm part of the Heartley's Nashville detail, but I'll be driving you to Atlanta tonight. I'm out front in a White Suburban with a Heartley Farms Logo.

I reply:

Thank you, I'll be right down.

"I have to go, Kade."

He blows out a breath as he stares out at the downtown view.

"I know. Go see about your son. This is...just...triage," he gestures between us. His voice is no longer harsh, but sad.

"Yes, exactly. My son is more...critical, right now. Thank you for understanding." I hop around hastily sliding into my Toms and donning my UGA sweatshirt.

He laughs—but it's not a happy sound. He sounds...wounded. Less so than Bodie, when I asked him to go.

Kane picks up my weekender bag and gently places it on my shoulder, adjusting the strap carefully, his hand lingering on my arm.

"That's not what I meant. The hardest part about triage in a crisis? You move past what you can't save." He opens the door for me. "I think your son is in need of urgent care, but his prognosis is good. Bodie—he's not gonna make it without lifesaving intervention. He needs you the most. But this?" he gestures between us. "This is a lost cause, and we both know it."

I blink at him. He really is an amazing, strong, gracious man. Part of me wishes I felt...more, for him. "I'm sorry, Kade. I really think you are incredible, in every way. There is not a single thing wrong with you," I smile up at him.

"Except I'm not the one."

My own lashes get in my gaze, because I'm finding it hard to meet his gaze, or that truth.

I pat his chest. "I hope you find your one. The one you can't move past, no matter how lost the cause may seem at times. No matter how hard you have to work to save them. That's the way I feel about Bodie."

He kisses my temple gently. "You are incredible, too. I'm just glad that fucking drummer came back from his drug binge when he did—before I completely lost my heart to you. Go be ruthless, and save his life, Dr. Watkins."

I hug him good-bye. "Don't forget about the Thai in the oven..."

He groan-grins. "You really know how to ruin a poignant moment."

"I just don't want you to get all sad-drunk and leave the oven on and burn this high-rise down..."

"Go home, Mom!" He cracks a light pop to my ass and pushes me out the door with a wink.

Awwwww, I love Dr. Call Me Kade. He was a little hurt, but he graciously stepped aside because , he's felt the vibe comin' off Bodie for Marley and Marley for Bodie and he knows, it goes deeper than his feels! I hope Marley is right--that he finds his ONE.

Okay, you know what comes next, right? A slight rewind, because we HAVE TA see the rather intense moment of Bodie and Darius meeting!