Chapter 21: Drummer Boys Take A Meeting Lying On Their Backs

Enjoy! This is a long one, in which brand new information is revealed and some lines are drawn in the sand!

Bodie

Dying is scary.

Living is harder.

Everything feels wrong.

The light. The noise.

My body. My breath.

The lack of Marley's hand in mine.

I reach out seeking her, and...nothing.

No gentle touch. No reassuring comfort. No sweet salvation.

There is only a rough jostling as my body is suddenly lifted without my consent and deposited firmly on a stretcher.

An unfamiliar Southern accent. "Can you hear me, sir? Did you take anything besides opiates and the naloxone you were given?"

I shake my head slowly. I can hear a heart monitor beeping.

"You experienced tachycardia from the naloxone. The increased heart rate caused you to pass out, but your rate is back to normal now. We're taking you to the hospital for observation."

"No," I croak.

"Yes sir," another equally Southern voice says. "Got to."

"No," I say again, more adamantly. "Marley—"

"It's alright, she's here, she just stepped away. She'll be right back." That's Riley's calm voice. "Bodie, how do you feel, mate?"

I focus on him. He's got a tight set to his mouth, but his eyes, and the way he's holding out his hand are speaking lucid volumes.

I reach for his grasp and haul myself to sitting, clawing away the heart monitor leads.

"I'm fine. Not going to the hospital," I say gruffly. Riley searches my face. "I'm fine," I repeat, and he nods, but there's a slight relief in his eyes.

"Sir, you really need to go to the hospital," one of the EMT's says sternly.

"I. Decline. Treatment," I say emphatically.

"You aren't gonna go to jail for an overdose. Medicare will pay. You don't have to give an ID if you have a warrant out on you," the other says helpfully.

I laugh and swing off the gurney. TJ catches me as I stumble. "Dude," TJ growls at the EMT that thinks I'm ignorant and poor and a criminal.

He's only one-thirds wrong.

I'm both a criminal and a dumb-fuck.

I grip TJ on the shoulder. "No. Let it go."

"Right then, you've heard the man." Riley says emphatically. "Now there's just the matter of where to send the bill, and non-disclosure agreements..."

The two EMT's blink and then look me over again.

"Shit," one says. "Can I get an autograph? My niece loves you guys."

"Are you fucking serious? A minute ago you thought he was a dumb, broke gangbanger..." TJ growls.

"Let it go," I growl again. I sit back down on the bed and cast a weary eye to the EMT, who now looks embarrassed as all hell.

"Hey man, I'll sign your shit if you sign mine," I grin weakly, and like magic Ariadne is there with some T-shirts and vinyl's for me to sign with a sharpie, while she effortlessly explains the terms of the NDA she's coercing from both of these guys.

Riley stoops in front of me, bracing my shoulders. "Are you sure about declining treatment, Bodie? It's better business not to be admitted under these circumstances, of course, but if you are feeling at all unsteady...your health comes first, mate."

"All good," I lie. I'm feeling unsteady as fuck, but then I lift my eyes and see Marley in the doorway.

Looking...transparent.

Scared at fuck beneath a perfectly calm exterior.

Exactly like Mac looked when Adam was going under the knife last summer.

Well, goddamn.

Her look says—a lot.

I rise unsteadily, pushing up on TJ's shoulder. "Why are you standing right now?" she says calmly.

"So I can do this," I grit out, taking four steps across the small room and wrapping her up tight.

We're both shaking for different reasons, but together, the trembling eases away.

"You stupid, stupid, stupid—"

"Thank you," I murmur into her thick dark hair. I wrap both arms around her. I smooth her ponytail as I rock her slightly. "Thank you. It fucking sucked—the drug you gave me—but you did what you had to do. I know that, now that I'm not high anymore. Thank you."

Her breath goes ragged again. I'm learning to recognize—that's her last defense—her final fight against a sob.

"If you cry, you won't be able to yell at me," I murmur. Instead of completely breaking down, she makes a strangled half sob that terminates in a laugh.

She pulls back, and examines me closely. "You look like hell," she says, then, "I missed your face."

"Pffffft. Woman, please. You can always see my face on YouTube..."

She laughs then. The snorty, sexy, sweet laugh. Then she corrects into a teary scowl."This is not funny, Bodie. This is so very serious."

"I know. I'm done," I tell her. "I fucking swear. No matter how hard detox is going to be. I'm done. I can't let this...take me. I need to be here, right?" I tilt my head toward TJ's house. "Tell me again, what you said. The last thing you said to me before I passed out..."

"Stay with me. I need you," she whimpers.

I tuck my head and give her a firm stare.

That's not all she said.

She said, Darius...he needs you.

She meets my gaze. Her lips tighten, like they won't say more. Her eyes cut to the side, ever so sublty. To the side where TJ stands.

My heart stutters slightly.

Dawning dread.

TJ was right all along.

Genetics, biology, paternity results...they don't matter at all.

It's not just TJ who thinks of himself as Darius' father.

It's Marley.

"You shoulda stayed over there with him," TJ says a little gruffly.

"No, you should go to him," Marley counters.

Something swift and undefinable passes between Marley and TJ.

"What?" I say.

"Darius...he knows what's happening here is about you," Marley says. "He saw Riley in the yard. He recognized who he was, somehow. I guess he's been watching alot of Soundcrush stuff on the internet. He..." she searches my face. "He tried to come over here. He wants to know what's going on."

"Tell him the truth," I say softly.

"That his brand new idol just nearly died of an overdose?" TJ scoffs. "He's been through enough this week. He doesn't need that on him."

"It's not on him. It's on me," I tell TJ.

"So was the bullshit last weekend," TJ snaps.

"Funny, I heard that was on you," I pop back. "Your gun, right?"

I lean over and jerk open the nighstand drawer, pulling the piece from it and slapping it into TJ's hands.

"Your gun? Darius has been protecting you?" Marley cries. "I've been punishing him for keeping quiet, for you?!?! And you didn't tell me?!?!? What the fuck, TJ?!?"

TJ shoves the piece in his jacket pocket. "Marley I swear to god, it was in a handgun safe. I didn't know he even knew I had it. I sure as fuck don't get how he figured out the pin code so quickly, under pressure..."

"That's obvious," I pant. "Daemon told him."

"He wouldn't do that," TJ says firmly. "I never told him the code anyway."

"What was the code?" I challenge.

TJ's lips tighten, and that's how I know I'm right. Daemon knew there was a gun in the house and the code was something personal to them both. He probably told Darius when he left him alone, in case he needed to protect himself.

"Bodie, I'm fucking glad you are ok, and I hate seeing you in this situation you are in. But you need to worry about your own problems, man—not my family business."

I snort and look at Marley. "You heard that right? Evasion?"

She nods at me with raised eyebrows. "What was the code, TJ?" Marley repeats.

"Marley, it ain't the time to get into this. Bodie practically just died, Darius is freaking out next door..."

"What was goddamn code, TJ?!?!" Marley yells at him. Even though I feel next door to death, her ferocity makes me jump and laugh at the same time.

TJ looks away. "The date I got jumped in."

I look at Marley. "Daemon told him. You know he did."

"No, I don't know that, Bodie," Marley looks even more angry. She reaches out and grips TJ's biceps.

"That was so, so, so stupid, TJ—for you to use that date for a code!" she pulls up his sleeve.

There's a tat of a grim reaper on his bicep with banners trailing around his arm. Marley twists, exposing TJ's underarm. Inside the banners, I can see some dates written, but they are small and blurred from time.

I make the obvious connection—that one of those tiny dates inside his tat is his initiation date, and that Darius has obviously lived in close quarters with TJ to possibly have been aware of, or have even asked about the dates. But right now, that's not what I care about most.

What I care about most is the way Marley has her fingers gripped on TJ's bicep, running her thumb to the inside, over the date.

I think about my own tats.

I think about what the fangirls always do in bed.

Explore them. Trace them. Ask about them. Kiss them. Memorize them.

Jesus? Really? Marley and TJ?

Should I even be surprised? I mean, they were left in the thick of serious grown up shit. Both their lives uprooted by Darius. They were basically teen parents together.

I'm sure it was...intense.

Suddenly, I'm feeling intensity again.

Dizziness, nausea. I brace myself on Marley's shoulders. She slips automatically under my arm, lowering me to the bed, her eyes full of concern.

"Riley," I growl.

He's leaning down, gripping my shoulder at once. "Yeah, mate?"

"Get the paramedics the fuck out of here before I pass out again and they try to make me go to the hospital."

He claps and does his thing and the room is quickly evacuated of equipment while I breathe evenly and try not to puke.

"Bodie," Marley says urgently. "Are you sure you want to decline treatment? Maybe you need to be in the hospital right now. If you mean it...if you want to detox, you definitely need to be under medical supervision."

I touch her face. "I'm okay. Just feeling...weak."

She sighs, like she's not satisfied with my answer, but she doesn't protest. "Lie down. Please? You don't have to always be a bad-ass rock star..."

I'm afraid if I change positions I'll puke.

"Bad-ass is Trace's gig," I spit out. "I'm the life of the party."

"More like the death of it," Marley says dryly.

"Jokes? Now? Too soon, girl," I hiss between breaths. "I expect more sensitivity from a therapist, Dr. Watkins."

She snorts. "I'm not your therapist. And this is more like a tough love situation," she says, as she pushes on my chest, forcing me to lie down.

Well, not forcing me—I have at least enough strength to resist Marley's insistent little pressings-- but I like the suggestion, so I yield to her, lowering myself to the mattress. Pride alone keeps me from puking.

That, and the way Marley is touching me reminds me of the night we had together in this very room, the way she pushed me back on the pillows as she took control. I place my hands over hers, on my chest, just like I did that night.

I think she maybe remembers that too, because she gives me a tender smile.

TJ makes a sound of disgust. "Will you two just...stop? I mean what the fuck, really? Bodie just nearly died, and on top of that he's a junkie—y'all are acting like that don't even matter—and Darius is next door freaking out, and we need to talk about what to tell him,  nd I thought...I thought...I didn't think...this. I thought you had a girl. And I know you have a guy..." he says accusingly to Marley, pointing a finger at her.

I'm about to open my mouth to tell TJ to get the hell out of my business with Marley, but suddenly there are voices outside the bedroom.

"Sorry, chap. You need to wait for your mum out here," Riley is saying mildly. I lift my head just in time to see Darius roll his eyes at Riley and juke him around him easily.

I lay my head back to hide the smile. Seems Darius doesn't like to be told what to do, either.

Like father, like son.

"What the heck," he says, his eyes widening as he sees my flat out on the bed. "The ambulance is leaving...I thought you were okay..."

"He's...going to be okay," TJ says at once, putting a hand on Darius's shoulder. "You don't have to worry about him, Darius. He's just...got the flu. Dehydrated, from puking, that's all. You shouldn't be in here..."

"I had a flu shot," Darius says. "Did you? Cause you shouldn't be around the baby if you get the flu..."

"Oh shit!" I laugh. "That's where you been, man? Your girl had the baby?"

"Yeah," he says, a smile lurking unbidden through his irritation with me. "Little girl. We named her Kamila."

"Congrats, Dawg..." My arm feels like lead as I raise it to him.

TJ hesitates. Just slightly. He claps it out and then fist bumps me, but the hesitation was there. I saw it. I felt it.

I ain't his dawg no more. And he ain't mine.

The question is why.

A question there's no time to answer, because Darius is asking his own.

He looks from TJ to me to Marley. "You guys think I'm so dumb, don't you?"

"No, of course not," Marley says. "But you aren't an adult yet, Darius. It just that some situations aren't really appropriate ..."

"Darius, I told you to stay over there," TJ barks, "Now you over here, sassing Marley, and technically you're grounded, so why you stepped a foot out of the yard I don't even know..."

"Because I'm not dumb or naive," Darius says over them, looking straight at me, "I know what happened. I just don't know...was it because I shot at you? Did it freak you out so bad you started doing lots of drugs all week..."

Marley and TJ both stop their parental lectures.

It takes everything I have to sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, so I can meet Darius face to face. "No, Darius. This happened, because I have a drug addiction. It's bad—real bad—and it's been bad, long before I met you."

Darius is looking me over—from my fraying dreads to my sweating forehead, down my wasted frame, to my shaking hands.

"You are famous. Talented. Rich. You have an amazing life. Why do you want to live like this?" He gestures around the sad little room, littered with beer bottles, and then to me, shaking and sweating and trying not to puke.

"I don't. Not anymore. I want that amazing life I used to have back. But Darius...everything they tell you about drugs, it's true as fuck.

"They are fun at first. They get less fun, the more you use them. You never know if you are going to be one of those people that can drop the drugs when they stop being fun, or if you are going to end up doing more and more, and worse and worse drugs. Like me."

I brace hands on knees, head in hand, fighting down nausea, trying to summon some strength.

I'm running out of steam fast. Every time I feel like I've reached a new low, physically, I dip below how bad I thought I could feel. I remember the day I tried to run on the beach in Thailand...just over a week ago. That feels like a lifetime. I feel like I've aged forty years since then. I can barely sit and talk at the same time.

"The truth is...drugs are like...playing Russian Roulette in slow motion. You take that first hit and you might get a pass. Or maybe you've just pulled the trigger on your life, but it's just gonna take awhile for the bullet to kill you."

"I think you can dodge this bullet. I think you can save yourself, like you did on the porch," he says softly.

Beside me, I hear Marley make a small sound in her throat, the kind moms make when their kid surprises them by being mature. I've heard my own mom make that sound of bittersweet pride.

She clears her throat. "That's very perceptive Darius. I think so, too."

TJ makes a sound of disgust. "I think you are missing the point, Darius. The point is...anybody that plays Russian Roulette with their life is a damn fool. Just like anybody that tries drugs. If you never start, you never have to worry about ending up like...this." He gestures at me.

I shoot a bleary, hateful smirk to TJ.

The boy and I got drunk together at twelve, smoked our first joint together at thirteen, dropped some X later that same summer—all substances his brother gave us. We spent our freshman year of high school getting high three, four times a week and getting wasted every Friday night.

I'm damn glad TJ is more like Leed—able to drop the drugs when they ain't fun no more, but he pisses me off, actin' like a hypocrite.

"Shut-up, TJ," Marley snaps at him.

He gives her a surprised, hurt look. "Shut-up, TJ? Oh that's how it is now? We agreed a long time ago, to never fight in front of the boy. We agreed and we stuck to it. Even after..."

"Even after what?" I say.

Now Marley turns her attention to me. "Even after...our family grew and Shay and Jory came along and I was with Marc and there was a lot more...stress," she narrows her eyes at me.

"Mmmm-hmmmm." I say.

"They act like I don't know they were together when I was little," Darius says conspiratorially to me.

"Really?" I say to him.

Marley turns Darius toward her. "No, Darius, you are exaggerating the narrative. When you were very little, you were confused. You thought TJ was your actual father. And even after you understood he was your uncle, you still wanted TJ and I to be together. Like a traditional family. A mommy and a daddy. It was never really like that. TJ and I were...there for you, like that, but it was never really like that, between us. We could never be together. It wouldn't be a good thing, for your father and your uncle. For our family. You know that."

"Okay, whatever," Darius grumbles. "But you guys used to like each other a lot more, before TJ went and got Shady-Shay pregnant and then suddenly Marky-Marc was your boyfriend from nowhere..."

"Dude. Don't diss on your mama's sketch-ex with Marky-Mark hate. The real Marky-Mark is pretty cool for an old guy. I've hung with him a couple times at my boy's dad's place..."

"Really?" Darius asks.

"Yeah really. But that's an interesting theory you got about Shay and Marc, Darius...I see where you are going with that...you're sayin' Shay was a blindside to your Uncle and Marc was a...reaction, from your mama..."

Darius nods with exageration and opens his mouth but TJ cuts him off with a look.

A dad look. That's all it takes for Darius to close his mouth again.

"Bodes, you better back up out our business before you need that ambulance again," TJ growls at me.

"Yeah, you go ahead and be the big man while I'm still fouled out from an overdose. Imma rebound in a minute...and stand up in your face and then we'll see..." I say loudly.

"You are not rebounding from an overdose," Marley says. "You need to go to medical care. I mean a place of your choosing—but one with good, solid, on-site medical care..."

"She means a detox unit," Darius says to me.

"I know that," I say dryly.

TJ whirls Darius around to him and gets down in his face. "You better shut your mouth and ease on out this room. You ain't got no business in his business," he points at me, "or your mama's business with Marc. And if I ever hear you talking about your Aunt Shay with that sass of disrespect in your voice again, I am gonna wear your butt out.

"Shay loves you. She's good to you. And you gonna call her Shady-Shay and act like she came and messed our family up? Let me tell you again what you damn sure already know, boy—cause I already told you this before. More than once. It takes two people to make a baby, but it takes a man to have a family. Shay was not Shady. She did not get herself pregnant to ruin your little world. I fell hard and fast for her and we got in the family way and now we are all a family. Me and her and Jory and Mila. And You. And Marley. Mama Pat of course. We're family." He taps hard on Darius' chest.

Then he points at me. "He's just some guy your dad and I used to know that blew back in asking for a favor and hung around in this hood because he's hiding out from his problems, Darius. His drug problems. His Hollywood problems. His fake problems. His manager out there that didn't want to let you in the room? He's gonna take Bodie to detox and then he's going back to being a rock star and he ain't coming around here no more.

"He don't care about you. He's just...he's hot for your mama right now, that's all. But even that won't last. You need to understand, Darius. All the video's you've been watching? All the Soundcrush songs you've been learning to play? This connection you think you have with this rock star that blew into your life? It ain't real. He's gonna walk out of this hood and not come back, just like he did thirteen years ago."

It's a good thing I'm flat busted with no fire, right now, because I could really fuck TJ up for what he's saying.

But the important thing right now is not fucking up TJ. The important thing is Darius and the way he's looking between me and TJ, trying to figure out what to think.

"I know why TJ thinks all that, but it's not true," I tell Darius calmly, "I...care about about your mama. Been knowing her a long time. We're friends. And I don't really know you, Darius, but the strange, intense way we met? And the music we played, afterward? It...it made a mark on me. You...made a mark on me. So I think...I'd like to play a lot more music with you. Be your friend, too."

"Friend?" TJ says. "You're a junkie rock star, Bodie. You aren't gonna be a good friend for Darius."

Marley leaps to her feet. "That's enough. Both of you. Especially you, TJ. You have no right at all—"

"No right, Marley? Bullshit. I raised him. More than you, I raised him. You went off to college. Then when I thought that was over and you were coming back home, to get a job with a regular schedule—something all of us could rely on—you signed up for grad school. Gone to class all day, gone to support groups doing your practicums all night. Then you moved out altogether.

"Because you moved Shay in," she said softly.

"Wait, wait, wait," I make a time-out with my hands. I tug on Marley's arm. "You lived here with Pat and TJ and Darius?"

"Yeah. Well, at the old place, more so than this one. While I was getting my phD in clinical psychology at Emory here in Atlanta."

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

She runs a frustrated hand through her hair. "When, Bodie? The three times I've seen you in the last six months? Or over text?"

Okay, she has a point. Just because I think about Marley every day, doesn't mean we've actually had a lot of time together, since we reconnected.

"Okay, but before that...you were away at college."

"Well, I lived with the Turners for about nine months after I got out of jail. I wanted to go to school, Pat said she would help. I applied to alot of schools, and I got this unbelievable opportunity—a full scholarship—I had to take it. I didn't want to be away from Darius, but I came home every weekend. I loaded up on classes and worked really hard and finished in two and half years."

"I just assumed you went somewhere in Atlanta. Where were you?"

She bites her lip. "UGA."

"UGA," I repeat. "The same time I was?"

I can't believe what I'm hearing. We were at school together, and I never knew. "Did...did... you know I was there?"

She laughs. "Bodie, everybody knew you were there. Soundcrush posters were plastered everywhere."

"You knew how to find me?" I ask her. "You could have walked up to me in any bar we played at and...and told me..."

I glance at Darius. "And told me..."

"Don't," she says softly. "Don't. Please."

I'm shaking again. From the drugs. From the revelation. From anger. Darius walks away from all of us and returns with the bathroom trashcan.

"You look like you are going to puke," he says matter-of-factly.

I nod my thanks, unable to speak. Not trusting myself to speak.

"This is over. Darius, let's go," TJ snaps.

"TJ—"

"No, Marley. The boy does not need to be exposed to all this," TJ says. "It ain't okay for him to be here experiencing this and hearing all this and it sure as hell ain't okay for Bodie to tell him drugs are fun and for him to being thinking a drug addict is his friend."

"That's not what I was trying to say—"

"You've said enough," TJ says. "This ain't your business, man. This is family business."

"Family business. Yeah, I'd say that sounds about right," I snarl back.

"Bodie, please," Marley says, putting one hand on my back, and one hand on my front. "TJ's right. This isn't the time for any of this. You're having a health crisis and we've gotten off track here..."

"Marley is so right," Darius says at once. "Bodie is...he's sick. He has a disease. He needs to get...healthy." Darius looks at his mother. "You could help him. This is what you do. You counsel people with problems. Like, drug problems."

"No," TJ says.

"Yes," Marley says. "Yes, that's exactly right. I'm going to help Bodie any way I can. He and I have a lot to talk about. Confidentially, okay? So TJ is right. It's time for you to go home, and for Bodie and Riley and I to figure out how to manage his health."

"Actually, Marley...I need a minute with TJ. Non-family business,"I insinuate, hoping she'll understand. I mean Sixmob business. I don't mean to talk about Sixmob at all, but I know she won't leave otherwise.

She looks between us. "Sure. I'll go next door and make us some tea, you could use the hydration and probably the caffeine to help you feel a little better."

She pulls Darius by the shoulders toward the door, but he drags his feet as he watches me. "I'll see you soon, kid. For real," I promise him.

"Okay. I hope you get..." he trails off and shrugs.

"Sober, is the word you're looking for," I tell him. "And yes, I'm gonna get sober, okay? And I'll see you soon. Go on now, before I hurl. You don't want to see that." I make a puke face and he laughs.

"Tru dat," he smiles.

His smile fades and he gives me the chin tip.

The first chin tip.

Shit. I missed his first word, first steps, first recital, first basketball game, but I'll take that.

I tip back.

When I see them cross the yard I call Riley.

"Close the door, please."

Riley walks in with a file folder and a couple of waters. He offers us each a water and he sits down in the chair, crossing his legs and opening the folder.

"What is this?" TJ says suspiciously.

Riley smiles at him. Not a nice smile. "This is the room where it happens, mate." He looks at me.

TJ covers his uncertainty with anger. "I don't know what that means, but I can't be bribed or intimidated."

"That's not what this is," I say to TJ. "This is just...disclosure. Where we lay our cards on the table. Riley..." I say wearily. "I know you know. I know my mother showed you these..." From the nightstand, I pull the pictures of Darius and Clayton and I flash them at Riley.

He nods. "How do you want to proceed?"

"How do you think, Riley?"

"Right then," he looks at TJ. "Like Bodie says. This is where we have a frank discussion about Bodie's son and how to facilitate a relationship between them."

"Bodie's son?" he scoffs. "He's my brother's son. There's a paternity test that proves it."

"Fuck the test." My voice is tired, my arm more so as I practically toss the pictures at TJ.

He catches them, slapping them to his chest. When he peels them away to look, he doesn't even have the good grace to act surprised.

He turns the picture of Clayton over. "Your grandfather," he says softly. "Marley always thought he maybe looked like her dad."

"No. He looks like a Jamison," I snarl.

TJ throws the pictures back down on the bed beside me. "This doesn't mean anything. A paternity test verified the father with 99% confidence."

"Yes, I've looked into that test," Riley says. "I've looked into the whole scenario, really. Got the full picture. Marley was pregnant in prison. She arranged for an adoption, changed her mind. Then there was a paternity test, after Pat Turner was given a guardianship. A guardianship that was dissolved several years ago, by the way, Bodie..."

"Good to know. Thanks," I nod.

"Anyway, the paternity test was sampled in two separate places by non-qualified personnel who then gave TJ the samples to mail. According to the incoming log at the testing facility and the visitation logs at the prison and juvenile detention center, the samples were taken a week prior to their incoming processing. That means, the samples were at least four days beyond processing recommendation at that time. In addition, from the tracking number, it appears that you held onto the samples for at least three days before even mailing them. An attorney would rip the confidence interval test to shreds. Not just because of the delayed processing. Because of the opportunity of sample tampering."

"What are you saying?" He looks at me. "Are you saying you gonna take us to court to prove Darius is your son?"

"No, I'm saying I can prove to Marley that there was plenty of time for you to switch those goddamn samples, like I know you did."

"Like you agreed we would," he snarls back.

"So you admit it."

"I ain't admitting shit," he says. "Darius is Daemon's son, but the truth is, there is no father of record on his birth certificate. He's no one's son, more than he is mine. Because I raised him."

"It wasn't supposed to go down like that," I say. "You told me if we switched the samples, Jaz would give the baby up for adoption. He was supposed to have other parents, a completely different mother and father."

"What?" Riley says sharply. "Bodie? You knew? All this time? That you had a son?"

"No, I actually thought Daemon and Marley had a child together. I knew Marley-Jasmine at the time— got pregnant, thirteen years ago. I knew...there was a very small possibility the baby was mine. I was only with Jasmine one time and we used protection. I mean not...maybe...not exactly...the whole time...but for the most critical events, you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I believe I get the picture," Riley says dryly.

I lie back on the bed and close my eyes, still fighting nausea as I continue to explain.

"Yeah, well...TJ said that Jaz wanted to give the baby away to this real nice couple, but Pat was confusing her, wanting to keep the baby. I honestly thought for sure...the baby was Daemon's. TJ said Pat only wanted to raise the baby if it was her blood. So he had this idea, that if we switched the samples, the test would come out showing that the baby was mine, when in reality was Daemon's. But that Pat wouldn't want to raise the kid and she would ease up on Jasmine about keeping him and Jasmine would give him away to the good home she had already chosen. Where he belonged. I...said okay, whatever TJ thought was best. I didn't want Jaz to struggle being a teen mom. I thought it would be better if the baby went to a  home with parents that could raise him with love and money and stability. I told TJ I was cool with switching the samples. I never knew if he did. I assumed he did and the result came out that the kid was mine, but that he really wasn't. I assumed it didn't matter because he had an adoptive mother and a father."

"It was only right before I went to Thailand that I found out he'd been raised...like this. Thinking his father was in prison—a drug dealer, a killer. And then I didn't even know until I got home from Thailand that he lived with Pat and TJ, not Marley."

"Ah, well that does explain some things."

"Hmmmm," I agree. I crack an eye at him. "You wouldn't maybe...do me a solid and explain all that to my mother, would you? While I'm detoxing?"

"Not on your life, mate, Riley says cheerfully. "But back to the matter at hand...I don't mind showing Marley the evidence in the case for sample tampering, in which case, new paternity test, and we wrap this up tidily." He adjusts he glasses. "Except for the matter of your oldest friend, the surrogate father," he nods toward TJ, "who has no paternal rights, but for whom we feel...how exactly?" he looks at me, "how do we feel about the man who raised your son, Bodie?"

I stare at the ceiling. "Really fucking pissed off. At the shit he just said to Darius about me. About the fact the he stole my son. He didn't help him on to a better home. He kept him in this one. He lied and he stole. But...now I see Darius and I know...I'm grateful he did that, too. I'm grateful for the chance to know my own son, for him not be lost forever to me. And I have TJ to thank for that. And also for doing a good job with Darius, helping raise him, being there for Jaz. So I guess we feel...pretty damn conflicted."

TJ sits up on the dresser, and stares at me. "I...I feel conflicted too, if it counts for anything."

"Not very fucking much, no," I say.

"I love him, Bodie. Like he is my own son."

"I see that. And Marley? You love her, too?" I ask testily.

He looks at the floor. "Yeah," he says slowly. "I do. But I'm in love with Shay. I love Marley like...like you'd love a babymama that things didn't work out with."

"So Darius was right? You two were together for awhile?"

He shakes his head. "Naw. We never crossed that line."

"But you wanted to?"

"Bodie...what you want me to say? I was a dude in my early twenties spending all my free time with a beautiful, smart, vulnerable girl, frontin' like her babydaddy. Did I sometimes think about her like that? Yeah. Do I think she was aware? Yeah. Were we close? Yeah. But she never gave me the green light for...romance. She was too wrapped up in Darius and too busy with school and mostly too...sad."

"Because of Daemon. Of the way he treated her."

He laughs, "No, you asshole. She was sad over you. Sad over seeing your face plastered on those Soundcrush flyers at every announcement board on the UGA campuses."

"Me? No, clearly she forgot all about me, TJ. She could have found me at UGA. She didn't."

"You don't know any damn thing, Bodie. She used to—"

He growls and stops himself.

"She used to what?" I demand.

"She would go to see your band play."

I sit back up on the bed. "What?"

"During the week, at the coffee shops. She never once stayed at UGA for the weekend, she was always home for Darius. But she would go when she could during the week, and sit in the back and watch your band. Once she said, she even went with a girlfriend to a party at your place—just stopped by for a minute on a Thursday night. You walked right by her. You looked right through her."

That's when I finally lose my grip on my stomach. I grab the trash can and puke.

While I retch, I have the insane urge to call up Leed. To tell him all this shit. Because I know what he would tell me. He would tell me that the Universe was always trying to bring me back to Jaz. To my son.

I'm the dumb fuck who has been to busy drinkin', druggin', and manwhorin' to open my third eye and notice.

TJ goes on, making it worse.

"I fucking hated it, when she would see you. Every time, she would come home and she would sit and watch Darius. And she would ask me...if I thought there was any way the test was wrong. If I had any doubt...about mixing up the samples. She said Darius didn't look like you, but he looked out through his eyes like you did."

"Bloody hell," Riley mutters.

"And you lied to her. Every time?"

He gives me a long hard look.

"Yes, okay. I lied to her. I switched the test. You are Darius' father."

Riley grunts. Surprisingly, it doesn't feel like a victory to hear TJ say that. It feels...hollow. I already knew in my heart Darius my son. But this news, about Marley being at UGA, about all the chances to reconnect missed, about all the time we lost, it hurts...

"You really did fucking rob me of my son, TJ. How could you fucking to that to me? If you had told her the truth then...she would have come to me. He was only what...three? Four at the most? I would have had all those fucking years with him..."

The rush of vomit stops my words.

After the long retching session, Riley's hand is on my back. "It's alright, Bodie. I know it's bloody awful—the lost time—but you've got a lifetime. Like Matt and Trace. Think of like that. We never bemoan their lost time. We only think how bloody marvelous it is they found each other, yeah?"

He hands me a cloth, his British way of helping me pull myself together.

"You're a bad guy, in this story, TJ Turner," Riley says precisely, boldly. "And this meeting is rapidly coming to a conclusion. The next one, depending on what you say from here, could be in a room filled with lawyers."

"I'm not a bad guy," TJ says to Riley. "I was just a guy in love with a girl. I was in love with Jaz, back then, okay? And even more than I was afraid that she and Bodie and Darius would become a family, I was afraid she would go to him and tell him about Darius and he would reject them."

"Bodie, I swear to god, that's the truth. I didn't tell her because I was afraid you would hurt her. You'd already shut me out, never returning a single call I made to you after you got out, never comin' back around. You weren't the Clay I grew up with anymore. You weren't that thug with the cool Bodie drug dealer name that was starting to emerge the summer you got thrown in juvi. You were Bodie, the Athens hipster, the drummer, with tats and dread and fangirls, she said. Lots of girls. You were walking right past her in coffee shops, with your arms draped around two girls, not seeing her. She was in your house, drinking your beer and you didn't notice her."

"She looks different," I growl. "She's practically a different fucking color without the spray tan and the braids. It's not just that. Motherhood changed her body even. The places at UGA were way the fuck out of context, from where I knew her. Sounds like I was either performing or drunk...it's not surprising, I didn't recognizer her."

"I don't want to hear some shit about how she looks white and she used to look black. She doesn't look that much different, Bodie. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her voice, walk, the way she moves, they are the same. The truth is...you weren't seeing her because you wanted to forget her, forget about the possibility of the baby she gave up that might have been yours. You pushed her memory so far away...you couldn't see her. You remember that. You had so many chances to open doors and you didn't walk through them because you had nailed them fucking shut. You weren't the same guy that loved Jasmine, that made a baby with her. And you aren't the guy I knew."

"Christ, look at you. You're a fucking junkie, Bodie. I can't...I can't just lay down without a fight and let you...draw them into this world of yours. The drugs, the chaos. Daemon's right about that. It's no place for Darius. You're no good for him, right now."

"Alright, all the cards are face up now," Riley snaps. He grips my shoulder. "He has no rights, Bodie. And neither does his brother. There's not even a father listed on Darius' birth certificate. What happens next is a matter between you and Marley. We're done here," Riley hurls at TJ.

"No, we're not," TJ says grimly. "I may not have rights as Darius' surrogate father, but my brother has a paternity report showing he is Darius' father. What's more we have...other leverage."

My eyes train on TJ's stern face. "How you goin' play me like that, man? You know the truth."

Riley scoffs.

"Go ahead, sell Bodie's overdose to TMZ. I'll kill it and what's more, I'll create such a sympathy for Bodie in the press that it might stir the drug enforcement officers to double their efforts in this area."

"I'm not talking about Bodie's drug problem."

Riley looks between us. "What's he talking about, Mate?"

I don't answer Riley. My words are for TJ.

"You motherfucker."

"You can call me that if you want, but I'm really not, Bodie. I'm just trying to protect Darius and Marley. Daemon still has no fucking clue about you and Marley, okay? He has a damn...legacy complex. All he can see is building a business empire and his son being a part of that. You don't want to push him. You don't want to push me, either."

"Alright," Riley says going to the door. "Get the fuck out. Don't contact Bodie directly again, or I'll have a restraining order issued against you and Daemon..."

"No, you won't. Bodie won't let you, because he wants to be friends with Darius. And if there's a restraining order against me, it's also a restraining order against him seeing Darius. He won't be able to come over and jam with Darius, will he? Darius lives in my house."

"I'm bloody sure that arrangement can be amended by Marley quite easily," Riley hisses.

"It could be, but it's not going to be, is it, Bodie?"

I'm silent.

Objectives change, Varrick says.

Okay, right now my next three moves feel like...kill TJ...kill Daemon...take Marley and Darius out of the country...

Shit...I've really got to put vomit some more, try to eat something and actually fucking detox back in my moves somewhere.

I can see Marley hurrying across the yard with a tray of tea and something in a bowl—soup probably.

The mother of my son is coming to mother me.

Christ. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to punch something.

More than any of that, I want to shoot up and end this misery I'm in.

Which is pretty fucking pathetic, because the misery hasn't even really started. I'm still skating by on the amp from the naloxone. My withdrawals haven't even hit yet.

Marley is at the bedroom door beside TJ. She takes one look at his face, sits the tray down and hugs him.

Hugs the motherfucker.

"I'm sorry," she says. "You have a brand new baby daughter and I'm so happy for you and this sucks. In so many ways. I should be over there, helping with Jory and Mila, not pulling you over here making conflict with you and Darius. I'm sorry for anything I said that made you feel...defensive. You are my family. You know that. You are so important to me. To Darius. But Bodie is important to me, too. Please respect that."

TJ's expression softens as he hugs her back. "I know, girl. I'm just...fucking exhausted. It's a lot, and I know things are different than they used to be, but I am always here for you and Darius. Don't...don't forget that, okay?"

"I know," she sniffles.

He blows out a breath and kisses her on the forehead then jerks a thumb my way. "You really gonna help him with addiction treatment?"

"No, she's not," I say grimly. "I'm more of a cold-turkey, take-your-punishment kind of guy."

Marley frowns. "We should talk about that, Bodie."

"Okay, you can talk. All you want. While I vomit and shiver and hurt all over and crave and wish I was dead. There ain't no way around detox, girl. I been there before. This is the last time, though. That's the good news."

TJ smiles grimly. "I hope that's true, Dawg. So...me and you...we cool?"

Two little words. So much more that they imply.

"We cool, TJ."

He nods, then his attention is back on Marley. "Why don't you stay over in your old room tonight?"

I fight the urge to growl at that motherfucker. Just cause I said we cool about me not pressing my rights as Darius' father right this very minute, was not me giving TJ the green light to make his own sister-wives cult.

He needs to back the fuck off Marley.

Fortunately Marley is cutting me a side-eye and frowning slightly at TJ, "Shay's just home from the hospital, she doesn't want company..."

"You ain't company, you're family. An extra pair of hands. Come one, girl, we got three kids up in there," he grins at her.

"Well if you need the help... "

"He's not the only one," Riley says curtly, checking his phone. "Just got the word...Mac's in labor. In Nashville. My place is there, right now..."

"Mine, too," I say determinedly.

"Right then. A flight to Nashville, with Bodie detoxing? I could really use a hand with that, love. You're a mother and well...Ariadne is...vomit-shy..."

"He already spewed coffee on me," she calls from the other room. "I've reached my contractually obligated rockstar fluid quota for the month."

"No," Marley frowns. "He...he can't go to Nashville. He needs to check into a detox unit. Like right now."

"I'm going to Nashville," I say, giving Riley the chin tip.

"You heard him, love. Are you coming with, or do I need to bring KeeKee?" he says, giving me the slightest smirk.

Marley glares at Riley.

Shit. I think there's a discussion about KeeKee in my future.

Fortunately, not right this minute. Marley puts a hand to her mouth, spinning between me, and the window, where I see Darius on the porch with his phone, not so subtly spying on us.

She walks across the room to me and drops fluidly to her knees in front of me, drawing away the vomit trashcan like it doesn't bother her at all. She pulls the elastic from her pony and ties back my disgusting hair that I haven't bothered to wash in anything but the sea in months.

"Hey," she says softly. "I'll make you a deal. I'll fly to Nashville with you, if you will let me find you a detox program. Maybe even in Nashville. They have really good rehabs there..."

"That is true," Riley says with a shrug. "Music City equals Artist City equals Drug City equals Rehab City."

I look at Marley, and I'm not sure if the words that come out of my mouth are true or a lie, but I need her with me, so I say, "Yes."

"You will let me choose your treatment program? Promise?"

Riley shakes his head, "Well now—"

"Yes," I say loudly, over his objection.

"Promise?" she whispers, putting her hands on my shaking shoulders. "First one, you can't break it..."

I pull her hands into mine. "Promise."

I mean it.

Fuck, I hope I still do when the withdrawals start.

She whirls toward TJ, "I'll be back. Two days tops. And I'll take some time off. All next week. Whatever you and Shay need, okay? I promise."

"Yeah, okay, Marley," TJ says neutrally, obvious strain in his voice. "Do you what you gotta do."

The speed at which Marley jumps up and kisses him on the cheek makes me dizzy.

"I'll tell Darius, where you going," he says sullenly.

"Marley can tell him what's going on. I'll be fine," I tell her. I gesture for KeeKee to come in the room.

"KeeKee, do you mind bringing me that tray? I sure as shit can't hold a soup spoon, but maybe I can drink some tea."

Marley practically body checks KeeKee. "No, I'll help you eat, then I'll go let Darius know..."

Riley is thumbing on his phone. "We don't have much time, love. Car here in half an hour. Wheels up in an hour fifteen."

"Damn."

"Sorry, Marley. Rock star pace," I smile bleakly as I pull the comforter up around me. "Go. Darius comes first."

She nods. "Okay. I'll be right back." Her smile is sad but her cinnamon eyes are warm. "Do me a favor. Go ahead and get your vomiting out of the way, while I'm gone." She cuts her eyes to KeeKee, implying that I should vomit on her, and save Marley the trouble.

"Ha-ha," I tell her. "This ain't gon' work if you don't let me be the funny one."

"Try suffering in silence, will you?" she retorts. She tucks her arm in TJ's and leaves the room.

Riley shoos KeeKee out right behind the others and closes the door firmly.

"Specifically what the fuck kind of leverage do the Turner brothers have on you, Bodie?"

Since vomit is my only answer, Riley gives me a pass for the moment.

But I know him well enough to know, he'll ask again.

Oh my!  How did Bodie do with Darius? Was it good that he was honest about his problem, or was that too much to put on a kid?

Did you see this coming? TJ, not so much aligning with Daemon, but drawing a line against Bodie? Were you feelin' how deep TJ's love for Darius and Marley goes?

DId you see the college twist comin'? I've been planning that for awhile. Spoiler--we will see a flashback at some point.....

Other thoughts?