Chapter 75: Drummer Boys Give Their World Away

Bodie Atlanta (Midtown)

I walk back into the sleekly furnished "Grooms Suite" at the Four Seasons to find Varrick, Matt, Leed, Trace, and Adam knocking back glasses of expensive whiskey. A good looking bunch, all suited and booted in black, backlit by the Atlanta skyline as seen through glass behind them.

"There you go again, Varrick. Breaking your own rule about only drinking alone," I joke.

He gives me a giant grin as he sits his leaded glass on. "Your mother broke me of that rule."

Adam scratches his dirty blond stumble and gives Varrick a faux-cringe-face. "Oh, she'll break you of a lot of things, now. Her stepwise destruction of your manhood starts tomorrow. It's not too late to back out, you know..."

"It's definitely too late," I pretend to growl.

Varrick grins at me, looking for all the world like Sean Connery back in his Bond days. That is to say, suave, rugged, old-school Hollywood. Not at all like an actual former assassin-slash-spy, who typically looks much more like regular a Joe.

Once, while we were sharing a recent private flight and shooting the shit after another debriefing—which I've gotten way better at—Varrick abashedly told me that his looks were a detriment to his CIA career. There were certain assignments they wouldn't give me—for example if the mark had a woman who was known to have a roving eye. "They thought I might be too memorable, you see..."

There is nothing of his other life—our other life of bad guys and secrets—in his eyes today. I don't know how the man compartmentalizes like he does, but I am glad he does it better than I do. For my mother's sake, I am fucking glad.

She loves him. She loves him like I've never seen. My whole life, my mother seemed little more than ambivalent to the men she occasionally dated. I think it was because she could never let herself trust one. She'd been hurt too badly, too young.

Ironic, that the man who won her trust, is the most dangerous man I know.

"You're right, it's definitely too late for me," Varrick agrees with me with a wink. "I'm a goner, I'm afraid."

We all laugh. Leed shoves Adam lightly. "Don't be acting like my sister cut your dick off. You were right on the front row of the Lunar Lounge stage with all the unmarried rock stars, if I recall..."

He's referring to Varrick's bachelor party two nights ago. Varrick didn't really want the bachelor party, but us rock stars insisted. The man is past forty and never been married. He may never party again, Leed argued. He had to have a bachelor party.

It sort of surprised us all Doc Gorgeous offered to plan it, at her old stomping grounds the Lunar Lounge. But Doc Gorgeous also being Jasmine, I should have figured it was a set-up.

One by one, our women came out dressed like strippers and danced for the twenty guys at the party.

I was expecting Trace to get growly when Kat strutted out first dressed like a hot cop and chained him to the table. So he couldn't get up and carry her off the stage when her clothes started coming off, she told him.

But instead, he laughed at her easily and then tipped his beer at Matt.

"You aren't really gonna strip in front of my dad, are you baby?"

Matt pretended to cover his eyes. "Carry on, Kat. Do what you gotta do."

She winked at Trace and said, "I guess you'll find out." Then she shook her ass in his face. He put his free hand on her butt as all the men whooped and yelled and whistled and Leed and Adam waved cash at Kat, pretending to beg for her attention. She ignored them of course.

"That's right, you bastards can't even pay for what I touch for free," Traced laughed at them. He has relaxed quite a bit, I'll give him that. The old Trace would not have enjoyed Kat doing something like this, he would only have tolerated it. She danced provocatively and took off her shirt to reveal her bra, but that's as far as she stripped.

Ashlynn and Mac came out dressed like twin schoolgirls in plaid shorts and tied off t-shirts. They pranced around the pole teasing each other and giving each other sucks of lollipops. When they gave each other a light, playful kiss, Leed stood up, downed a tequila, tore at his hair and wailed. "I'm so fucking confused!"

"Leed is out, but I'm in ladies!!!" Adam yelled and they blew him kisses, and skipped off stage, hand in hand, with all the clothes they came in.

To our surprise, a real stripper-no one we knew—came out next. But she was just a red herring, the real show was on the floor as Marley—in a string bikini top and booty shorts strutted over to our tables with a tray, making a show of serving us with sexy moves.

"I don't strip, boys. I just serve the drinks," she said in a breathy voice and she put down everyone's favorite. She leaned into my face as she put down my Red Bull. "But I do take tips."

I put a few Benjis in one bikini cup and my hotel key card in the other as everyone roared. Marley kept the key card and climbed on the stage, putting her hands on the stripper as she tucked the one hundred dollar bills into what garments the girl had left, then smacked her on the ass to send her off the stage.

Some actual bartender handed Marley a microphone and she said, "Gentlemen..." she beamed at Varrick and the men in attendance from his circle of friends—mostly Ben and security guys from Sentinel and one new "government" coworker whom we don't ask about his job, all of whom clap politely, "...and rock stars..." Marley dramatically rolls her eyes as we rock stars yell in rough voices and pound the table, "Now that you've had a taste of our offerings," Kat, Mac, and Ashlynn peak from behind the curtain and wave, "may I present our main course...the one, the only, the incomparable Mistress del Marco!!!!"

"Oh fuck, here we go," Matt laughed, as Marianne strut onto the stage in a Dominatrix costume with a whip.

She used that whip, too, leaving Matt with a couple of scary near misses. Then she worked the pole. At one point when she was upside down on the damn thing, Leed, laughing his ass off, shoved Matt and said, "Where in the hell did she learn to do that? Because I've heard the stories...Marianne comes from New York society. She was an Uptown Girl, when you met her."

"Then she married a downtown boy who bought her a stripper pole and lessons for her fortieth birthday," he said smugly, sucking down his beer and yelling, "Do that split dismount, baby. I fucking love that one!"

When Marianne finished her show, all the girls brought out "dessert"—a giant paper mache wedding cake—and my mom popped out wearing some kind of white lacy thing and a mini veil. I didn't really get a good look because I made a show of picking my chair up and turning around. Apparently she didn't get out of the cake, but she stripped inside it and threw the white lacy things at Varrick while everyone but me hooted and whistled and pounded on Varrick.

"Don't you dare pop out now, Sweetheart," Varrick called to her goodnaturedly.

"I wouldn't think of it. You have to wait until the wedding!" she said in a cutesy singsong voice and dropped back into the cake as the girls hurried it away.

Marley put us in limos after that, an allnight pub crawl that included pool, darts, and Topgolf, hired out after hours for the bachelor party. Twenty drunk guys hitting golf balls in a three story, Midtown bar-slash-driving-range. Could be a problem with all those skyscraper windows but the whole place is covered by nets. We drank and swung clubs until sunrise. It was a helluva night.

Then we slept all day yesterday, until the girls dragged us from bed for the rehearsal dinner. There wasn't really much of a rehearsal, however. There's no wedding party, except for me giving her away, and a few of my younger cousins, acting as ushers for the guests. My mom said she was way too old to have bridesmaids, and all she wanted to was to meet Varrick in front of the minister with family and friends witnessing.

She planned this whole event herself—a super elegant, super simple ceremony in the Ballroom at the top of the Four Seasons. I walk to the windows of the Grooms suite, away from the men pouring another toast to Varrick, and gaze out over Atlanta, as the winter sun descends rapidly towards evening.

In two hours, my mother, whose primary attention I have had—for good or evil—my entire life, is about to become a married woman, for the first time in her life.

I'm happy for her, of course I am. But I know things will change, now.

Things have already started to change. She's selling the house I bought her, and she and Varrick are looking for a smaller place back down South, maybe even in the the Old Fourth Ward, where Marley, Darius, and I live. Something closer to the airport, she said, since she and Varrick will split time between Atlanta and DC, and maybe occasionally, LA, now.

Varrick joins me at the window. He clears his throat. "Sorry they left you out of the toast."

I shrug. "No worries." It happens a lot now. At first, when I was working hard on my sobriety, the guys all made a show of solidarity and would drink-but-not-drink with me.

Over time, as my sobriety has—mostly-stuck, they often do shots together without me. Just another way my path has diverged from theirs, but that one is not at all a big deal to me. I've long ago gotten over feeling left out of the drinking games.

I'm so fucking tired of all the games. Spy games. Thug games. Rock star games.

I shake my head, shaking loose my bitter thoughts. This is a happy occasion. I will not spoil it for my mother, or for Varrick.

"You really ready for this?" I ask him lightly.

He looks at me solemnly. "You know I am. I love her more than I ever thought possible." He gestures with his drink toward the skyline. "She makes the world an entirely different place to me."

I smile grimly. "It kinda scares me, how much she loves you back. Never in my life have I seen her need someone like she needs you. Not even me."

He shakes his head quickly. "You're wrong about that. She has a primal love for you. She needs to know you are safe...and she...senses when you are not. Every time you are out of the country, you start to weigh on her mind. She mentions you more. She texts you more. She worries about you more."

"Yeah. I know. I hate that."

"Me too." He washes down his drink and sits it on a side table, gesturing me out onto the balcony. He firmly shuts the door for a private conversation.

"I've just received some important intel this morning. It possibly relates to our problem."

The problem that Varrick is thinking about? The investigation into Sully Lorcan has been reprioritized. It's been on the back burner for about six months now, for bullshit bureaucratic reason. New Division Head in whatever down low department of whatever shadow agency is directing this fiasco.

Which has left me muling drugs basically indefinitely.

"Tell me it's a solution to our problem."

"Not a solution," he shakes his head. "Just a heads up. Three days ago, Lorcan, the Ryan brothers, and Rafferty? All had a meeting with the Priests."

The Priests is the "good guys" code name for the head honchos of non IRA that's still the IRA. I know all kindsa super secrety spy shit now.

"That hasn't happened before."

"No. That means something is up—some assignment for Lorcan's cell, or some action they want to take that is so big they have to get sanction for it." He leans on the railing. "This could be good, Bodie."

"Or bad," I say, thinking of car bombs and terrorists acts.

Varrick scares me, the way he waves dismissively. "No doubt. Very fucking bad for some poor bastards. But potentially good for us. If Lorcan's cell perpetrates some heinous act in the world, interest in bringing them to justice will rebound, and we may finally find ourselves in an end-game situation."

"But not like before. Not building a dossier for a sniper assassination."

"No," Varrick says grimly. "It's like I told you. New administration, new rules."

Apparently, when we get a new President, the whole spy community has to adjust to the Commander-And-Chief's sense of justice. The one we got now? He doesn't like to make an executive decision and give the order to off a minor bad guy. He prefers to employ thousands of people to put them in jail.

I can't same I blame him. It's not fucking easy to sleep at night, knowing you are directly responsible for three bullets to the chest in some bastard who had a family, just on the flip side of your political coin.

Varrick grips my shoulder. "Bodie, this is not the day I wanted to tell you this. But the situation is tippable. Things could change in an instant. Your affairs are in order? Everything we've talked about?"

I grip the rail. This isn't the first time I've heard this. Twice Varrick has brought me the word from above to put my affairs in order and get mentally prepared for my part.

I'm prepared. I have to be. It's my only way through this mess, now.

At this point, I don't even fucking care if they get Lorcan. I just want out.

To be honest? I don't give a fuck if they get Daemon anymore, either.

Everything is about perspective.

Once, Daemon seemed like such a threat to me, and I would have done anything to rid him from our lives.

Now? Daemon seems like nothing more than infrequent nuisance. Much less deadly than my thugs up the chain.

Since he married whats-her-name and had that kid, and is ballin' in drug money, Daemon's happy as a clam and he hardly bothers Darius. Asks to see him like once a month. Darius has been flying home for a twice a month weekend at TJ's all year. He mostly spends it with TJ and Pat, maybe has dinner with Daemon and everything has been copacetic.

Moreover, Daemon does not give a fuck that Marley is my woman anymore, or that Darius is my commonlaw stepson. Not since his "second" son was born. He's made his empire. Has a new trap Queen, and new heir.

If it weren't for the paternity deception that I know bothers Darius, and the fact that Daemon is pumping poison to kids, I would hardly even have a beef with the dude at this point.

Yes, Daemon hurt Marley in ways he doesn't even understand and for that I will never forgive him. And yes, he was responsible for his crew nearly killing Marley in front of that club two years ago.But the truth is...I honestly believe he didn't mean to order Marley's execution. He was just a drunk thug, mouthing off. Threatening to cap someone that crossed him. Haven't I been guilty of the same?

But what did I do in response to that awful night when Marley was nearly killed ? I turned around and acted like just as big a thug and "bought" Marley. At the price of getting in bed with Connor Ryan and his domino chain of terrorists.

What the fuck was I thinking? You can't "buy" a person, no matter how much you want to protect them, no matter how much the idiot you are "buying" them from thinks they can "sell" them.

And now? Who is the bigger potential threat to the people I love most? Not Daemon Turner, that's for damn sure.

Sully Lorcan. That's who. If he knew what I was? What I was trying to do to his organization? If he knew about my family? He would put a bullet in Marley's brain, and then he would torture my son, before doing the same and make me watch. Then do everything in his power to make sure I lived a long long life with the memories.

I know what Leed's third eye would show him if I could tell him this story. He would never tell me the truth, that his instinct, his goodness, would plainly reveal.

My karma has turned on me to teach me a lesson.

The thug life never ends well.

"Bodie?" Varrick is looking at me with real concern. I forgot, for a second, to bring the rock star, and I can only imagine what my musing looks like on my face right now.

"Yeah. Everything is in order. Except telling Marley, of course."

Varrick blows out a long breath and leans harder on the railing. "Don't. Tell her, I mean. It will just...prolong her agony."

He doesn't have to tell me that, but I can't help a resentful, "You plan to keep shit from my mama like you are asking me to keep from Marley? I thought you were a good guy."

He straightens and gives me a direct look. He takes his super special CIA consultant badge out of his hands and turns it over and over.

"This badge says I'm a good guy, but we both know...there is no such thing. There is only a code a man chooses to live by. When I meet your mother in front of the minister today, my code becomes her. My every breath, I live for her. And you. And yours.

"Bodie...I know the way things are now...it's a shit deal for you. If I look back upon my life, I know my hands are so much more filthy than yours could ever be, and I know its an unfair world where a badge washes mine clean, and yours stay dirty. But I promise you, no matter what happens with the feds, I will do whatever it takes, to see our family come through this whole."

I stand on this balcony five hundred feet skyward, nothing but scant concrete and mostly air beneath me, but I feel steady in this moment.

My fate is probably fucked, but Varrick Von? He's the solid ground I can count on for my women, and my son.

I hold out my hand, homie style.

"Well, let's go make this family shit official."

His hand meets mine naturally and he pulls me in hard, and for the first time in my life, "father" isn't some meaningless noun.

All at once, it has a pull to its syllables.

————

I knock on the door to the Bride's suite. "It's me," I yell through the metal door.

"Coming!" Tam's voice calls brightly. She throws open the door and flings herself at me.

I latch on hard and long. It's not like I didn't see Tam yesterday, and the day before, but before that? It had been a damn while.

My only family member that moved to LA with me, that traveled on two national tours with me, has become a distant and dearly missed relative to me in the last two years. I've seen her maybe five times this past year—briefly—when she would bring Ollie out to the tour to catch up with Leed. She came more than that, but because of my frequent absences, we kept missing each other.

"Come see," she smiles at me, leading me into the suite and into the bedroom.

The photographer is just finishing up with some of those get-ready shots that people do, so for just a second, my mom doesn't sense my presence yet. I get to see her, not as a mom, but as a bride.

She's some exotic fairy tale.

Her long hair is drawn back in intricate side braids. Her skin is glowing—her makeup simple except dramatic lashes and dark lips that accent her two best features. Her dress is like a glass of champagne—in color and shimmer. Sparkly crystals coat her lithe, youthful frame.

She turns to me and the full satin skirt of her tea length dress billows. She reminds me of...a beautiful ballerina.

"Bodie."

I roll my eyes and shrug. "You can call me Clayton today, if you want..." I move forward and hug her gently. "since I'm standing in for my namesake..."

She makes a sound between a laugh and a sob, and all at once, Tam, my aunt, and Marley are scolding me and rushing to thrust tissues at my mother to prevent tears from ruining her beautifully lined lashes.

"Jesus Christ, I'm leaving if you three are going to beat me to death!" I say genially, stepping away.

My mom pulls me back. "You aren't shirking this job."

I take her hands. "Actually I wouldn't dream of it. Happy Wedding Day, Mama."

Another sobby laugh, another scolding, more profaning from me, and then my aunt declares its almost time, and we have to do the wedding tradition.

"Something borrowed," she tells my mother, and gives her a tiny family bible, in which to tuck Varrick's ring.

"Something old." Tam flits away to the kitchenette fridge and returns with my mother's bouquet of mostly deep red blooms that match her lipstick. Tam turns the bouquet to reveal the silver posey holder. "A designer I walked for sent me this before my wedding. I won't say who...because he was an admirer, he just wanted me to use it so I would think of him while I was marrying Ben, so I didn't use it for my wedding..." She tilts her eyes and grins, "but it's an old-fashioned tradition. I like it, don't you?"

Marley goes next. She gives my mother a blue handkerchief. It's trimmed in fancy lace, but the cloth itself? Looks likes plain cotton with little white clouds on it.

"It's made from one of Darius' baby blankets. I know that today of all days, it's hard, the challenges we all have. But he is your grandson in your heart. And his..."

The cloud handkerchief? Goes straight to my mom's eyes.

I shake the shoulders of my beautiful one-day bride... "Jasmine!" I scold. "Now who's making her cry. And how's she supposed to carry all this stuff anyway? Tiny little bible, handerkerchief, flowers...this is getting way too complicated, Mama. Let's just bail on this whole deal and go get some dinner...maybe some chicken and ribs..."I wink at my mom.

I get a pec slap from Marley, a head cuff from Tam, an eye roll and huff from Aunt Vie, but my mother reaches out with one hand to me as she slides the bible and handkerchief in the pocket of her full skirt. "Tam had pockets made into the dress, see? Because I knew I wouldn't have an attendant. And she'll step up and take the bouquet when it's time for the vows. Just like we practiced at the rehearsal." She smiles up at me, getting both hands on my arms, now. "Everything will work out, Bodie. It's going to be...just fine."

She's not talking about her stash of keepsakes now. She's talking about her marriage to Varrick, to the inclusion of him in our family, to all the ways our life is going to change.

I hold onto her arms. I want to ask her if she's absolutely sure. She only met Varrick two years ago. There's so much of his life he won't ever share with her, because of his work. And then there's all that baggage.

But then I look over at Marley and she looks at me, and I feel the power that runs between us, this connection that always grips us, hold us together in this love, simply refuses to let us go, no matter how hard it sometimes is, and I think that maybe my mother and Varrick love each other like that, too.

It set up fast,their love, but it's strong enough to last forever.

"Well then," I reach into my breast pocket. "Time for your something new..." I place the iconic red Cartier box in her hands and flip open the lid to reveal antique style diamond drop earrings, custom designed to coordinate with both her dress and the wedding set Varrick had made from the same jewelers.

My mother's eyes light, because they are gorgeous. Princess jewelry. "Oh Bodie, you didn't have to do that..."

"Yeah, I did, Tam told me so," I laugh. It's not really a lie. Tam worked with the jewelry designer of course. This time I duck as Tam swats at my head. My mother rolls her eyes.

"I wanted to. I told Tam I wanted you to have beautiful wedding jewelry that you could also wear on red carpets. You are be going to a lot more LA parties now...you husband is an LA insider, you know. Among other things," I remind her. Honestly, I don't think she gives much thought at all to that side of her new life, but Varrick is still majority owner of Sentinel and he still keeps a presence around town in LA.

Tam is helping her put the earrings on, Marley is rolling the mirror over, Vie is exclaiming, my mother is kissing me, Tam is fussing about her lipstick, and the hotel wedding coordinator is knocking, the women of my family are scurrying away, and now it's go time, just like every performance.

I'm walking my mother through the empty corridor to the ballroom, our footfalls echoing in the large hall. We stand in front of the door.

She looks up at me one last time. "I love you, Bodie. So much. Thank you for bringing Varrick to me."

Life is strange. She's right in a way. Even though she sent Varrick to me in Thailand, it was everything bad and messed up in my life that led to her finding the love of hers.

I pat her hand, tucked around my arm. "Let's go get me a daddy, yeah?" I joke.

Her soft laughter is what Varrick hears when the door is thrown open and he lights at the sound of her happiness.

———————

The simple ceremony takes place quietly, high above the busy Atlanta night falling below us. On the altar before the wall of glass, Varrick and my mother are framed by limitless dusky sky and the twinkle of hopeful skyscraper lights.

Joy pours from them, bathing us all in happiness. They exchange a few additional written vows after the traditional ones. Varrick has trouble getting through his.

"Ronna, I..." The words he wants to speak with surety come with a tremble of emotion. He smiles at her, shakes his head, takes deep breath and begins again.

"Ronna, I wasn't prepared for you. The first time I met you, your strength of spirit, your honesty, your fierce beauty, it...well...it scared the hell out of me."

Everyone laughs. I see Adam look at Mac, give her an eyebrow raise that seems to indicate he felt the same, and then he kisses her hand. She lays her head on his shoulder.

Varrick squeezes my mother's hands. "It scared me because in that one meeting, I think I already knew...you were the woman I could give my heart to. It's maybe not...the tender young organ it once was. But it is stronger and steadier now, and it beats only to love you, and protect you, and exist in time with yours for the rest of my life."

He kisses her hands as she cries.

She's not the only one. Behind me, Ashlynn lets out a small squeak that clearly is the cut off sound of a much larger sob. Varrick shoots her an endearing grin at the same time I toss her a wink over my shoulder.

Sorry, sorry, she mouths. Leed wraps an arm around her and gives her the most thoughtful and amazed look. Like the idea of marrying her has actually finally fucking hit him.

"You're a goner," I mouth at him.

He turns his hand in his lap and shoots me a bird.

At the altar, my mom has finally collected herself to finish her vows.

"Varrick Von, I've been waiting for a good man my whole life. You took your time, showing up," Her voice is teasing and sassy and I see from Varrick's grin that he loves it when she pretends to scold him.

"But I would have waited longer for this love we have. Because now that we've found this treasure in each other, I know it will never end. Nothing can ever separate my love for you from me, and nothing will ever take me from...here..." she places her hand on his heart, and the man nods in agreement as tears flow unashamedly down his face and he whispers, "that's true."

My mother wipes his tears. "I will be loving every day, I will be proud every minute and I will be loyal every second of the rest of our life together. And even after that, I will be yours for all of time."

Varrick nods and pulls her head to his, whispering, "I love you so much." She laughs again lightly and says, "It's really amazing...to love like this...who knew?"

I look over at Marley and mouth. "Who knew?" and she smiles at me with a look that is...helpless. It's tender and loving, but it's not a "helplessly in love" look. It's just...a helpless look. Because we are stuck. I won't marry her and put in her official public danger until all of my business is settled. She knows that, accepts it, not for herself, but to keep our son safer.

As I'm looking at her, wishing so badly we could follow Varrick and my mom right here, right now at the altar, she pats my arm and directs my attention back to the ceremony.

Now Varrick is laughing through his tears and the minister, sensing he's losing control, declares his god-given authority, makes his pronouncement and Varrick is pulling my petite mother off her feet, raising her above him, and bringing her down into a kiss so real and so jubilant that not even a Nick Sparks movie director and a soundtrack could have made better.

Inspired, I rise and clap and whistle. "Yeah! Get it, Varrick!" I yell.

For one second, all my relatives look a little shocked at my outburst. Then Leed, ever my wingman, leaps to his feet and starts yelling too. Pretty soon all the rock stars are making a ruckus and the whole wedding ceremony dissolves into a noisy bar crowd and the DJ has the sense to play something happy and upbeat for Mr. And Mrs. Von's walk back down the aisle, instead of the classical piece my mom probably chose.

As everyone rises, staff pours in and the ceremony chairs are swept away like some kind of choreagraphed dance. Curtains are pulled back to reveal the fanciest table settings I have ever seen—and I've been to shindigs, I tell ya—and the room is transformed like magic into a ballroom again.

I stride forward to be the first to give the happy couple my congratulations.

Reception to follow! Double Update!!!!