Chapter 78: Drummer Boys Sins Come To Bear Part 1

Okay, this Part 1 of the scene you've all been anxiously awaiting. Part 2 isn't written yet, so unfortunately no double update today...

Bodie

When he pushes me into the back of the van, the Irish Dickhead first works to strap my hands together behind my back, so I get a full view of Marley and Darius bound and hooded, slumped against the wall of the open interior of the van. Marley is gasping quietly, trying to control her breath, and I know she can hear the scuffle of Dickhead shoving me across the van floor. Darius is quiet and still. Withdrawn. Thinking hard, maybe. Or maybe just plain terrified.

"Hey. Hey. Marley. I'm here. Darius—"

"Shut the fuck up," Dickhead says as he backhands me.

I spit on the fucker. "Make me," I growl.

"Bodie...no..." Marley whispers in horror, but Dickhead and I are in a staring match. He definitely wants to hit me again, but instead, he roughly drags a hood over my head and slams the door.

Good. That's good. He has orders not to hurt us. At least not yet. If the plan was simply to kill us, he wouldn't have hesitated to rough me up after I spit on him.

No, Sully Lorcan wants something from me. And if he wants something from me, maybe I can use it to barter for Marley and Darius.

Or maybe he knows I'm a rat, and maybe all he wants is my suffering for betraying him. And maybe Marley and Darius are the way he's going to extract it.

Now I hear the passenger door slam, and the van lurches into forward motion. I scoot to the wall, so that Darius is between Marley and me.

"Darius...are you hurt?" I whisper low.

"I'm okay," Darius mutters. "I'm fine. Just...who the hell are these people?!?!?"

"IRA," I tell them both. To Marley, "The...guy I do busineth with in Thailand. His...relations."

"What?" Darius says. "What is IRA?"

"Terrorists," Marley whispers. "Irish terrorists. Oh god. Bodie, how could you—"

I take a deep breath and cut her off angrily.

"Shut the fuck up, Marley. Last thing I need is your fucking mouth right now. You think I wanted to get in bed with the IRA? No, I just wanted to help your goddamn BabyDaddy like you asked. I didn't know who I was dealing with when I started, okay? Just like I didn't know what I was getting into...all this this shit with you and your kid! You were supposed to get me clean, that was all, and look where we are now!!! I didn't even want all this shit with you!!!It just fucking snowballed, like everything else in my life!!! Playing house with you and Darius turned into doing your Babydaddy a favor turned into being a drug mule turned into this shit!!!"

I'm hating the hate I'm spewing but I can't do otherwise, suspecting they have the van bugged, hoping if not they can hear me through the cab wall. "Just...just shut up, okay? Just keep your mouth shut like you been taught. You don't fucking know anything anyway."

Marley chokes back a sob and I can tasted bile rising up from the way I spoke to her. I hate treating her like a drug dealer's whore, but I know she's smart enough to read me right now, and strong enough to play along.

I'm not wrong.

"I fucking hate you," she growls back. "At least Daemon didn't have a God complex. He had...perspective. And Daemon was faithful when I was with him. I have to put up with your fucking Hollywood whores. First Arabella. Now Row del Marco. For what? A gig working for your band where I work my ass off? A big fancy house that I never get to see because I'm always babysitting you and your fucking band? And now you are going to get us killed. Daemon treated me like a queen. He protected me...I should have never thrown in with you—"

"Shut the fuck up!!!!" I yell at her, and to my surprise, a little of my irritation is real. Her venom was so quick to spew. Was it all just an act like mine, or do real resentments simmer beneath the eruption of her angry words?

As an afterthought, just in case they are listening, I add, "And keep your goddamn mouth off Row. She's got more spunk and life in her than you ever could have. She understands me. She understands what I go through. She loves me for me. All you care about is the goddamn pile of money rolling in. You are nothing but a gold-digger, you know that?"

It can't hurt, to profess feelings for someone else, in case these fuckers in the front really are hearing every thing she says.

Shit, no. That was a wrong move. If this is just some kind of extortion for more favors and they do let me go, Lorcan associating me with Row could potentially be dangerous for her.

It's too late now. I'll deal with that shit later. After all, Row is not here. All I care about right now is protecting Marley and Darius.

Marley descends into silence with a few more muttered "fucker's" and "I hate you's."

With every angry word Marley and I hurled, I could feel Darius beside me, his body growing more tense and his self...withdrawing, growing more distant. I lean over close, pressing my hooded head into the side of his, risking one quick murmur in his ear.

"Lies. To protect you and your mom."

I said it so low, I didn't think it was possible for him to hear me, but I feel his head nod jerkily against me.

We say nothing else, and we ride in silence what seems like a long time. Hooded, terrified out of my fucking mind for Marley and Darius, desperately trying to map out some plan, completely unable to do so because I don't know what I'm facing, I begin to focus on the one and only hope that I have—that somewhere several car paces behind, Malik and Jalen are following, calling the crew for help, and that more cars, filled with more Sixers are edging onto the interstate behind us.

Indecipherable headlights of hope.

I feel it when we ease off the interstate and I try to count the lefts and rights, but quickly lose track. Doesn't matter. I have no idea what exit. All I know is we where headed South, and from the long ride, it seems to me like we could easily be in Alabama now.

Maybe I shouldn't be, but I'm surprised when the van slowly rolls to a stop and they roughly jerk my hood off as soon as they let me out of the van to reveal that we have arrived at some out of the way, possibly defunct air strip. A small jet is parked some distance away, looking too clean and new for the cracked runway sprouting grass.

I get the point. The hoods were only to increase fear and confusion, but these Irish are letting me know—they can leave this place quickly, with me and my family, or worse, without us.

Marley stumbles when they pull her out, and she dumps painfully on the asphalt, scraping her knees. She quickly stifles her cry of shock as they drag her up and jerk her hood off. I don't think she takes in her surroundings at all. She only sees me.

Our eyes meet. I try to give her all of me in one quick glance—all my love, my courage, my fucking conviction that I will get her through this. She gives me a slight, but composed chin tip.

When Darius is pulled from the van, he sees what I see—the airstrip. His eyes go wide and I know his mind is working like mine.

Two possibilities. We're either being kidnapped or murdered, because the air strip is awfully fucking convenient for a quick snatching or a clean getaway before our bodies are found.

Irish Prick and his two friends march us into the hanger and push us down into chairs. I'm prepared to see Sully Lorcan, Connor Ryan, his brother, Hugh, or maybe Thomas Rafferty, but they are absent, at least in this large room.

Then again, I think about how Lorcan made me wait, the first time I met him, and I guess I should have expected his absence instead.

Two other IRA cell members whom I've seen but whose names I only know as Pat and Derrick hulk over a table, probably to draw my attention to it.

Again, I'm prepared for the table. For the handguns and the couple of assault weapons and the large array of knives. In the most full-of-dread sort of way, I'm also prepared for the rest of the items on the table. A few pairs of heavy duty channel-locks, a couple of lead pipes, and an iron bar that I imagine from the blow torch beside it, is intended as a brand.

Yeah, deep down I was prepared to see all that shit. I stare at it. I get fucking real with it. I refused to be frightened by it.

It's mine. It's all mine. I will welcome all of it. I will do everything in my power to receive the cruelty of it, if it saves Marley and Darius.

I can see Darius staring kind of dumbly at the table. Marley is shaking silently, but no cries are escaping her.

"Hey. Hey," I yell at them. "Look at me. Don't look at that. Look at me." Both their eyes snap to me. "This has nothing to do with you two. I have a business arrangment with these guys. Something has gone wrong, but I can fix it. That table is for show...this is fixable..."I assure them.

"Quite right, old boy," Lorcan's evil cheer precedes him into the room. Connor, and his brother Hugh follow close behind. Thomas Rafferty, nearly always present when the others are, is no where to be seen.

Lorcan strolls casually toward us. "Ah. I see we have here the lovely Dr. Watkins and her talented son, Darius...Jaymes, is it?" Lorcan cuts me an eye roll.

Christ. He knows. Or at least, he's got reason to suspect. Of course he does. Industry types are talking about the upcoming Darius "Jaymes"—my protegé. What the fuck is wrong with me that I thought Darius using a stage name so close to mine was a good idea?

Lorcan is bowing in front of Marley now. "Sully Lorcan. Very pleased to make your acquaintance."

Marley says nothing. I can't move my eyes from her.

I am caught between her knees—lace covered above and oozing blood below— and the defiant glare she is giving Lorcan. In this moment, Marley is the most vivid thing I have ever seen.

Lorcan clucks at her and turns away to a workbench on the wall. He pulls a bottle of whiskey and some glasses from a box there, and pours a drink. He downs it quickly and then pours another, slinking slowly back to Marley.

"Patty, cut the good doctor and her son loose, please. What she must think of our hospitality. I assure you, Bodie is right. Your situation is...fixable. You needn't worry for your life. I'm not in the business of killing innocent women and children, when arrangements can be made for their better use."

I steel myself not to react. Of course he just wants me to lose my shit at the inference he's going to pimp out of my woman and kid. Everything he's doing right now, he's doing to gauge my reaction. My sensitivity to Marley and Darius. My vulnerability.

Now he's giving her a lecherous look-over. "They told me you were half-black but white-passing. I have to say, you've got me all confused. I don't usually find black women at all...arousing. You are something different, aren't you? A rarety."

He waits patiently as Marley rubs her wrists, and then offers her the glass. "A drink, love. It will settle your nerves."

"No thank you," she says coldly. He grabs her jaw roughly, forcing the drink down her throat as she splutters and coughs and feebly claws at his steel grip with hands that are barely working from blood loss.

"Let her go!!!" Darius screams, rising from his chair. He's immediately pushed back down by Derrick, but not before Lorcan rounds on him.

"Fine, you can take her medicine," Lorcan growls and backhands Darius.

Rage and pride war in me, threatening to tear me apart as my son moves with the blow, just like I taught him when we box. He was much more prepared to get hit than I was to watch it.

Lorcan raises his fist to cross the other side of Darius face and I say, as calmly as possible, "Sully, if this situation is fixable, quit fucking around and tell me how. I have no clue what the fucking problem is, here."

Lorcan's fist lingers in the air a moment before he drops it. His gaze finally comes to rest on me. "You don't know what the problem is?"

"No."

Lorcan's eyebrows raise. "Well, what you say could be true. Or could be false. The truth is...I didn't know we had a problem either. But then I got a very interesting phone call from a stranger. A stranger who didn't have nice things to say about you at all, Bodie. Come on out, new friend." Sully lifts his voice and calls toward the door at the back of the hanger.

Avery fucking Thompson strolls through. He looks scared out of his fucking mind, until his face lights on me, hands tied, trapped in a chair. Then his fear fades into a look of extreme smugness.

"What the fuck are you doing, messed up with these guys?" I hiss at him.

Lorcan laughs harshly. "Is that any way to talk about your business associates, Bodie?"

Avery is regarding me with a hatred that I've never before seen in him. It's true, the last year we've had a few volatile arguments as Dharma has done more volume with its two artists than B-side has with it's entire stable, but every time Avery has accused me of undermining his power structure, I've been able to appease him, playing my deliberate efforts to infiltrate his label off as a combination of beginner's luck and general cluelessness about courting his network of contacts.

Or so I thought. But now? Seeing his ice cold expression? I think I've underestimated him.

He proves me right. "Bodie doesn't have friends in business. Bodie only has people his trying to double cross and play off on another. He's trying to steal my label out from under me. And it's like I told you when I called, Lorcan... I'm almost positive he's informing someone on you, too..."

"You don't know what the fuck you are talking about, Avery," I say more calmly than I feel. My mind is racing back through the months, trying to recall any slip, anything I might have said to Avery or Arabella or even Evangeline, any call I might have taken where Avery might have overheard...I can't think of any. I can't understand this. How in the fuck did Avery even know about Lorcan, much less find a way to contact him?

I never mix business with business, especially not the Thai business with the Dharma business in the Phillipines.

"I know more than you think, Bodie. I know you are trying to destroy my business. I know you and Riley Eddision have long conversations about how to do that, late at night in your hotel room in the Phillipines, whenever you sneak proprietary information out of B-Side."

"You fucker," I say, disbelieving, but half-impressed. "You had my hotel room bugged."

"Yes."

I roll my eyes at Lorcan. "Okay, fine. In his youth, this prick stole my manager's girl and was responsible for wrecking her head so bad she od'ed. Avery Thompson knew who my manager was, and lured me into a binding business arrangement without disclosing any of that to me. I like my manager. Like a fucking lot.

"So obviously I'm gonna do what I can to dissolve my business arrangement with Thompson here, and the easiest way to do that? Take over majority share of his company and boot him out. That's just...business. Happens all the time in every industry. It has nothing to do with our business, Sully. This is all just...a misunderstanding."

"Bullshit," Thomspon sneers. "You know what else I heard from those bugs in your room? You talking to a guy named TJ, about the endgame for your gang, Sixmob. You were arguing about some big secret, and the guy TJ-he wants out. It's too risky for his family, he says. He wants wants out, and he wants his brother Daemon back in jail. And I heard you, telling him, he just had to play the game a little longer. That it would all be worth it in the end."

Lorcan tsks. He picks up the lead pipe, smacking it in his hand emphatically as he says. "That.Does.Not.Sound.Good.Bodie."

Goddamn, I wish I had an eidetic memory so I could recall every detail of the conversation TJ and I had in that hotel room, about three months ago. But I know enough to know that I was on my regular phone, so I wouldn't have gone into specifics about Varrick or the deal with the feds. Naw, to be honest, I'm pretty sure that conversation was mostly about the other secret we keep.

I calmly regard Lorcan. "Listen to me, Sully. It is true that I'm trying to screw Avery over, but I'm not dumb enough to try that shit with you. Avery Thompson is a fucking moron who doesn't know what the fuck he heard. My boy TJ and I were talking about family business. Daemon—the guy I mule for, the gang-leader who is buying a million dollars worth of your product on a regular basis—is that kid's dad," I jerk my head over to Darius.

"And Daemon and TJ are brothers. TJ helped raise the boy while Daemon was in prison and well...now...to be honest...Marley and I? We are sometimes fuckbuddies is all. It's convenient, she works for the band, she's on the road with us, so the kid comes with that deal. Daemon is a shitty dad. TJ is more Darius' dad. We were talking about all that family shit, you know. Just mouthin' off about Daemon going back to jail, so TJ and Darius could go back to they way they were, I didn't have hassle with a Babydaddy who was complicating my low-hanging fruit, you know what I'm saying?"

Lorcan waffles his head dramatically. "Well, yes, that does make a certain sense. And it is what he said, too..."

"What who said?" Maybe it's because the binds on my hands are too tight. Or because the adrenaline is finally starting to blow out my brain from sharpness to a frantic anxiety, but now I'm not following....

"Him." Sully jerks his head at another door. Derrick and Pat go over to it and unlock it. It's a closet and they draw forth from it a tall, familiar form, who fights being drug beside me every step of the way. I know who it is, before they take his hood off.

Shit. I was prepared for TJ's face, but not badly bruised and swollen. TJ is not down for the count though. He spits blood in Lorcan's direction and glares defiantly. "I told you, motherfucker. You got it all wrong, don't you?"

"No, not all wrong, I don't think," Lorcan says coolly. He walks over to Avery and hands him the pipe, "Hang onto this for a moment, Thompson..." Lorcan walks casually past him, as if he's going to the table for another drink.

Avery looks down at the pipe in his hands, surprised at the weight, I think. He doesn't see the gun Lorcan pulls, never feels a thing as Lorcan puts it to the side of his head and blows his brains out.

Blood and brains and bits of bone spray me and TJ beside me as Avery drops.

There is complete and utter silence except for the ragged intake of breath from Darius as he stares at the dead man with a hole in his head and the blood spreading beneath him.

I can't describe what I'm feeling right now. It's like a chasm of not nothing—but like nothing I've ever felt is opening up inside me with every small intake of Darius' shock and horror.

My eyes flit to Marley. She's staring at the dead man in shock too. Then her eyes flit to mine and I see it. I can see clearly what she's thinking.

She's thinking we are all going to die.

I think she might be right, but I won't go down without a fight.

"Darius. Darius. Hey!" TJ says urgently, trying to draw Darius attention from the blood, creeping towards Darius' shoes. "D!"

Darius' attention snaps not to TJ, but to Lorcan. "Why did you kill him?" Darius asks without any inflection at all. He's like a little kid, trying to understand out of his depth.

"Because he spied on Bodie, stole a cell phone with very important numbers in it, then subsequently tried every number in it, prodding and badgering and blundering his way into my business, which I like to keep very private. That man's information was interesting to me up to a point, but that man was indiscreet, and I can't have indiscreet people knowing anything at all about me."

Sully walks around Darius' chair and drags it backwards away from the advancing blood. He rips open Darius' shirt, drags it down his arms. "No tat. You aren't initiated into your family's gang. You haven't proven your loyalty, your manhood. Tell me boy, are you indiscreet?"

"Leave him alone," TJ growls.

I shoot TJ a sharp look. Goddamn, TJ, shut up. He will only hurt Darius more if he knows how much it rattles our cages.

"I ain't gonna say nothing about you, if that's what you mean," Darius mutters. "You solved your problem, right?" He gestures at Avery's body. "He was the one creating static over nothing, right? Just let us go, and my dad will keep buying your product and Bodie will keep muling it and everything will be cool, right?"

The look on Marley's face right now is beyond agony and it probably mirrors mine as we both come to realize that Darius has known far more than he let on, all along.

Lorcan pats Darius on the face lightly. "You're a smart kid. I bet you know alot more than the adults give you credit for. Tell me...do you know your family secrets? The secret that Bodie and TJ are keeping from your father?"

Darius shrugs. "It's no secret that they don't like him very much, that's all..."

Lorcan roars back his head and laughs, but in no way does he sound amused. "Did you hear that Daemon? Your own kin doesn't like you very much."

A door bangs open and Daemon comes through, muscling a five-foot-four wildcat, hooded, bound but fighting him every step of the way. She's dressed in a fancy cocktail dress and for a second I wonder who the fuck this chic is, but when she lets loose a string of curses my heart drops, and I don't need the normal rocker girl attire to identify Row as the captive.

Daemon's captive. Goddam. I can't believe Daemon is in on this.  Lorcan has maneuvered around me and established his own relationship with Daemon. That makes me vulnerable. If he can find another mule, I'm dispensable.

"What the fuck, Daemon!!!" I roar at him. "What the fuck are you doing? You turning on me? On your own brother!?!?"

"Oh I think you both turned on me a long fucking time ago, didn't you?" He says coldly as he shoves Row down in a chair, keeps her there by brute force and yanks her hood off. A bit of Row's hair is yanked free with the hood, and she screams and tries to kick Daemon. He slaps her, I roar and that's when Row finally looks at me, around at the entire assembly, and at the dead man on the floor.

Her eyes snap back to mine, then run rapidly between me, Marley, and Darius.

"What is this?" she croaks.

Before I can open my mouth Daemon growls, "You are here because these people have questions for Bodie and they asked me to help them make sure he answers honestly, and well, obviously leverage is the way to do that, and you are his new favorite pussy, aren't you?" He jerks her hair back, forcing her to look up at him.

She spits in his face, and I holler "Daemon—don't you fucking—"

But it's too late, he's already slapped her again. Much harder this time.

Goddamn him. I know what he's doing here. By convincing Lorcan that Row is my girlfriend and my weakness, Daemon is protecting my real leverage—Darius and Marley—because in his own fucked up way, he loves them too.

But unlike Daemon, I am not willing to sacrifice Row. Shit, she's another Gwen in this situation—a complete innocent who does not belong here.

She sounds anything but innocent as she yells at Daemon, "Hit me again you motherfucker! I want to look real good for the police report."

Connor Ryan crosses to her and stoops down, saying in a mild confidential voice, "Tough talk, but as you can see..." He rolls Avery's body over so that Row is confronted with more of the gore, "We're a bit passed police reports here. Unless you want to go the way of Bodie's other associate, you best pipe down like a good little lassie."

Row's fury drains as she looks at the body then looks at me helplessly. "But I'm not..." she looks at Lorcan, "He's not..." She looks at Darius and then Marley and then again at me. That's when she starts to cry.

Unbelievably, I find myself tearing up too. Darius and Marley are mine, for good, for evil, no matter what shit we have to go through. My love for Marley and Darius is primal...I will kill and rage and die for them if I have to and I will not flinch from any of it.

But my affection for Row is the thing that breaks me in this moment. This is too fucking much. This girl does not belong here in this, and she certainly shouldn't feel obligated to help me protect my family, just because she's my friend.

"You really are a rock star, aren't you? Managing two women at once?" Lorcan grins.

I say nothing. He looks at me speculatively. "Which one do you actually love?"

Nothing leaves my lips, because there is nothing I can say to make this better.

Irish Dickhead says "He loves the young one. He and the old lady were arguing about her in the van.  He said she understands him.  Likes him for him..." he nods at Row, "He definitely loves the fresh meat."

Row's eyes widen. "What?" she's truly confused now and I can't say I blame her. God, this is so fucked up.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart," I manage to grit out. "I never meant for you to get involved in this."

"What?" she whispers to me again in between sobs.

"You don't seem much like the Sweetheart type to me, darlin'," Connor says dryly to Row, curling the darling in his heavy Irish accent as he also curls a hand around the side of Row's breast.

I would like to kill him right now. Very much. Even more than Lorcan, which is insane. But I very much hate Connor Ryan.

"Get your fucking hands off her," I tell him.

He puts his hands up in mock surrender and laughs.

Row chokes off her hyperventilating type of crying and says, "Just tell them what they want to know, okay?"

I look to Lorcan. "Fine by me. Cut the bullshit, Lorcan. What the fuck is your endgame here?"

Lorcan gives a nod to his men, and one by one they each grab a weapon—or instrument of torture—and randomly, they choose one of us to stand behind.

"We're getting a bit ahead of ourselves. Before we play to the endgame, we should all know the set-up and rules, shouldn't we? You see...Avery started our game, bringing to light the rot in your house, Bodie. To be honest, it stinks in here. It stinks of lies—your whole family, your whole gang. How can I get at the truth for my endgame, if you all are lying to each other? So that's where we start. With your internal lies. It's time to clear the air. This is a game of truth...or dare. But I must warn you, if you dare to lie, the consequences could be...permanent."

Lorcan points at Darius. "You'll start. I'll give you one more chance to answer the question I put to you earlier. Truthfully this time. What secret are Bodie and TJ keeping from your father?"

Darius gives a head twitch to the Irish Prick who's standing behind his chair. Then he swallows heavily, chips his tin, and says, "I don't know."

Lorcan throws his hands open to Hugh Ryan. "What do you say, Hugh? Truth or lie?"

"He's absolutely lying."

"I think you're absolutely right. You've dared to lie and face the consequences, laddie." Lorcan nods to the guy standing behind Marley. He lights the blow torch.

"No! No!" Darius yells as the guy heats a small iron bar to flaming red hot and jerks Marley toward him. He presses the bar—aglow like hell—into Marley's inner forearm.

She gives one sickening shriek and chokes it off, even before he removes the bar, which wasn't very quickly. Now she shakes as she stares at the four by inch strip of charred flesh on her arm in shock.

Darius is screaming profanities at Lorcan as Lorcan laughs and says, "I suppose I forgot to mention that one important point—it's one of your loved one's that takes the punishment of your lie. But," he shrugs and winks at Darius, "now you know."

Darius is still yelling, but I am quiet, breathing in the scent of Marley's scorched flesh. I feel strangely peaceful knowing I am going to kill today.

Killed or be killed trying. I don't know how it's going to go down, but I know that's what has to happen. I have to take these Irish motherfuckers—out of this world if I can.

Beside me, I hear TJ moaning slightly. The way he's looking at Marley—all the love he tries not to feel for her so plain on his face. Then he looks at me and I look at him, and without words, I know I'm not the only one willing to kill our way out of this.

"Shut him up," Connor says tolerantly of Darius, who is still yelling "Fuck you!" at Lorcan. The Irish prick stuffs a rag in Darius' mouth. Darius fights him.

"Darius! Stop! He's going to suffocate you if you don't calm down!" Darius ignores me, thrashing. I try to rise, but my man sits me down again. " Marley...Marley...talk to Darius. Say something, baby. Jasmine!"

When I call her Jasmine, her eyes find mine, she's able to lift slightly above her pain and she understands that I need for her to help calm Darius. "Dar...ius," she pants. "I'm okay. It hurts, but I'm okay. Stop! Stop, okay?"

Darius stops fighting, but he starts crying as he looks at his mother. She breaks down too.

"Well now, normally the way we play this game, it would be Dr. Watkins turn to answer truthfully," Lorcan says with his fucking cheerful Irish lilt, and I decide before I kill him I will cut his fucking tongue out of his head, "But I'm not an unfeelin' man, so we'll give Dr. Watkins a moment to collect herself. Bodie can take her turn. "Same question, since we haven't gotten an honest answer yet...what is the secret you and TJ have been keepin' from the boys' father?"

Fuck it. I'm so fucking done with games anyway. "The secret is...Daemon is not Darius' father. I am." My eyes are on Lorcan. His eyebrows raise, but he smiles.

"Now, we're getting somewhere." He turns to Daemon. "What do you think of that answer, man?"

Daemon and I trade glares for a long moment. Without changing expression, he shifts to Darius. Darius can't meet his eyes. He looks away, focusing his attention on Marley.Daemon examines Darius closely a long time. Then Marley.

Quite calmly, Daemon says, "Did you fuck him the night of his initiation? When I ordered you not to?"

She lifts her chin, though her face was streaming with tears, she manages to say. "I loved him for a lot longer than that."

Daemon lets out a small laugh. "You loved him? No Jasmine, I loved you. I took care of you, kept a roof over your head, and pretty things in your closet, and food in the fridge. I protected you. I taught you what it was to be a woman, how to live happily with a man who fucking adored you. I gave you everything, and you fucked a punk-ass kid behind my back? I thought it was me...going to prison all that time, you struggling as a single mom, that ruined us. But you let Bodie destroy our family a long fucking time before he ever became a rock star, didn't you?"

"We weren't a family. You hit me. You mind-fucked me. You raped me."

"I hit you once, maybe twice, because you deserved it for defying me. You obviously were the one doing the mind fucking, because I loved you and were lying to me the whole time. And I never raped you. Never took you once when you weren't willing."

"After I told you I didn't want to get pregnant and you sabotaged my birth control, every time you were raping me!" she yells at him.

Darius winces.

"Alright, alright," TJ intervenes. "Darius doesn't need a rehash, and it doesn't matter, it was a long time ago..."

"Doesn't matter?" Daemon spits at him. "Fuck you. You knew? About her fucking your boy?"

"Not then, no."

"When?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You believe this bullshit that Bodie is spewing? That he's Darius' father? You know that's a lie. There's a paternity test with my name on it, for the birth certificate..."

TJ says nothing. He just shakes his head at Daemon. Whatever Daemon sees in TJ's expression summons fury and...evil inside Daemon.  Something...monstrous crawls across his face as he looks at me.

"Lorcan, we're still playing a game, right? Bodie's answer? I have a paternity test that says it's a lie." He uses a large knife to slash quickly through Row's bindings and jerks her roughly to her feet, grappling for one hand as she fights him to get away from the large knife he's wielding.

"It's the fucking truth!!!" I yell at him. I rise out of my chair but my guy grabs me by my bound hands and struggles without success to put me back in it. "Daemon, goddamn you, don't you fucking—"

"It's a lie!!!"

He plants Row's hand flat on the wall and drives the thick hunting knife all the way through it.

In the reverb of her scream, I fall flat on my ass.

I watch the blood streaming down her hand.

Her playing hand. Her music—her life—spurting out in bright red bursts before my eyes.

She screams twice as loud as he pulls the knife carelessly back out.