Page 185 of The Comedown

Christ’s sake, did he put any thought into what would happen after he called out Bodee Keys on national television? Like logistically? How did he see it going?

Security swarms the stage, screams ring out like hymns in church, and amidst all the pandemonium, Bodee manages to appear like the devil he is, snarling, “John!”

My ex takes a step toward the fighting men, but I block him, jiggling the pen knife between my fingers, and warn him with one simple word, “Don’t.”

Bare jogs up, parting bodies like an ocean liner cuts through waves, so I tell him to take Holter back to the hotel.

“Mom? I can’t…”

“Collette…” Bare starts too, eyeing his boss cutting an elbow across Jack’s face.

“Julian gave you the order himself,” I tell Bare, and if Julian could talk right now, he’d give it again.

Bare knows I’m right. Holter’s the priority. To me and to Julian. Sadly, not to Bodee. A fact he continues to prove every chance he gets.

Holter, being every bit my child, refuses to budge, using that same technique as before to make himself appear bigger, stronger, older.

“I’ll meet you at the hotel,” I say, because while he may be bigger and stronger, he’s not older. He doesn’t need to see this. He’s already seen more than I ever wanted him to.

“What about Julian?”

“He’ll…” I swallow. I don’t know. Others are working to pull Jack and Julian apart now, but the sound of body blows is unmistakable. Julian doesn’t want Jack to be able to walk away from this unscathed.

And I don’t either. I don’t want Jack or Bodee to walk away unscathed. The sad truth is they probably will though, and that I really can’t have Holter witnessing because I don’t want him to think that’s how life does work or should work.

“He’ll be okay,” I say, not really knowing if he will.

Bare finally gets Holter to move, but after only a few steps, he turns toward Bodee, saying, “Dad?”

Bodee lifts his chin, a myriad of scratches marring his usually perfect skin.

“It was Mom, wasn’t it? What Julian said earlier.”

Every cell in my body comes to a standstill, allowing my heart to plummet from my chest to…I don’t even know where it is now. Gone? Maybe. It feels like it.

“Son, I’ve only ever tried to help your mom. She’s a tortured soul—”

“Did your publicist write the same script for both you and Jack?” I ask. “Because that’s the exact same wording he used.”

“I hate you,” Holter says, and my eyes fly to his. Luckily, he’s staring at Bodee.

Not luckily. I’m glad his hatred isn’t for me, but I never wanted Holter to hate his father; I wanted him to have a father.

Bodee never did try filling the role though, not for his sake or Holter’s.

Two police officers drag Julian up to his feet, each one holding an arm behind his back.

“Bare, take him. I’ll get Julian.” And I will, even if I have to go to hell to do it.

Julian’s had my back, now it’s time I have his. Together, we can take on Bodee and Jack, but he didn’t finish the job. Not yet. He only opened Pandora’s box with his public accusations. He didn’t rip the lid clear off with proof. I may not even have proof.

But I know who does and he hasn’t been thinking straight since he arrived.

So, after Bare and Holter leave, I choose to see this through myself by keeping my attention locked on Bodee, prepared to poke my ex’s over-inflated ego until it pops like a balloon.

“How are you going to recover from this one? Your peers hate you, your son hates you, I hate you, and if they don’t already, the public will hate you, too.”

“Collette,” he chides, his sneer full of real blood and fake bravado. “Perception can always be altered. Hate comes and goes as easily as love.”