Page 157 of The Comedown

“Jesus Christ. They’re not that bad. Enough to take your kid from you?”

“Maybe alone, no. But me using a knife to cut your shirt off immediately after gives it a different angle Bodee could work into anything he wants.” Oh God, his concocted story of my “sex addiction.” It wasn’t just that his brain had actually thought something like that up, it’s how practiced it already was. He could, and would, sell the lie of me being a knife-wielding sex-fiend as easily as he sells albums. “All the photos he has might be harmless by themselves but combined…they won’t look good if presented together.”

“Why now? Holter’s thirteen years old. Why didn’t he fight for custody before now? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know,” I say quickly, contemplating if I should just tell him about The Mousais. I didn’t want to until I knew for sure it was a done deal. I wanted it to be a surprise, not something I break to him while blackmail’s hanging over my head.

“The pictures…something doesn’t add up about them. We would’ve heard something about them already. Someone should’ve posted them by now.”

“It wasn’t regular paps,” I agree. “He paid someone to follow me.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Same reason Bodee does everything, to get what he wants.”

“What does he want from you?”

I can only shrug, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

“This whole time, ever since you guys broke up, you’ve never been with anyone else, right? Not publicly?”

“It’s not like that. He doesn’t want me back.” He wants me ruined, destitute, no legs left to stand on. He wants to be able to prove what happens when you turn your back on Bodee Keys. Bodee Keys can make you, or Bodee Keys can break you, and if he’s not getting credit for one, he’ll most certainly find a way to get it for the other.

“Guaranteed this isn’t the first time he’s had you followed.”

“It wouldn’t be difficult. Everywhere I go people are photographing me anyway.” As if to prove my point, a bachelorette party at a volleyball court drawn in the sand screams my name, waving overeager hands above their veil-covered heads. The ones not waving have their phones pointed directly at me, and I wave back automatically. It’s robotic, but it’s enough for them to go back to their game without requesting anything more of me.

Small miracles.

Eyes taking in the beach full of people like the person responsible for spying on me will magically present themselves, Julian says, “You should’ve told him to fuck off.”

Under different circumstances, I’d smile—I knew that’s what his reaction would be—but I can’t even muster the strength. I can feel myself waning.

“Believe me, I tried. Once he brought up Holter, that was the end of the conversation basically. I couldn’t do anything.”

He turns to me, saying, “I know. Just like Bodee knows. Your boy’s your kryptonite, the one thing that can take you out and make you agree to whatever conditions he drops at your feet. Whatever he wants, he’s playing to win, but…he won’t take you to court.”

“How can you be sure? Bodee’s unhinged.”

“He’s unhinged, but he’s not stupid.” His hand fits in mine, and he brings both up between us, singling out my tattooed finger. “If he took you to court, you wouldn’t stay quiet about whatever it is he did to you.”

I don’t tell Julian that I can’t. Bodee’s already thought of that. My silence didn’t give me leverage; it didn’t garner my hands power. All it did was buy Bodee and Jack enough time to make their story bulletproof.

“Let’s go to the airport, tell Bodee to go fuck himself. We’ll grab Holter and bring him back here with us,” Julian says, shrugging. “If Bodee still wants to play games after that and leak photos, we’ll sue him. Slade’s got lawyers on speed dial for this kind of shit.” His jaw grinds side to side and his eyes take on a sharpness I couldn’t decipher even at my best, which clearly, I’m not at right now.

“Your lawyers aren’t big enough to go up against Bodee.”

“You mean I’m not big enough to go against Bodee.” There’s a bite to his tone now, almost like he’s mad at me instead of my ex. I haven’t done anything but try to protect my family, which was starting to feel like Julian was a part of.

“None of us are big enough to go against Bodee. He will win, but even if there was a small chance he wouldn’t, he’d do everything in his power to make damn sure I lose.” He’s been winning this whole fucking time. Watching my entire life through a well-placed telescope, he’s essentially spent the last fourteen years soaking me in kerosene while waiting patiently for the most opportune moment to light the match. This isn’t just a takedown, it’s an assassination.

“Hold on. Wait. We gotta do somethin’.” Julian reaches for me, his own hand shaking as I back up.

I dodge him though, telling him, “I need some time alone.”

“It doesn’t help. It never does.”

“How would you know? You’re always surrounded by people.”