Page 149 of The Comedown

Low and fucking behold, Bodee Keys steps through the crowd and heads straight for Collette, planting a kiss on each of her cheeks with zero surprise of finding her there whatsoever.

Bare tries to linger near her but ends up getting roped in to helping several other security guards enforce some kind of crowd control so the celeb pair doesn’t get trampled.

“He didn’t tell you he was coming?” I ask Holter, and out of the corner of my eye I see him shake his head.

“No. He didn’t.”

After a minute of us watching the shitshow under the gazebo, he buries one of his feet under a pile of sand, mumbling, “He doesn’t tell me anything.”

I shift on my feet, kinda wanting to hug Holter right now. I don’t, but only because I don’t really know how that shit works. Would he appreciate it? Return it? Shove me off him and call the cops?

Instead, I cross my arms over my chest, feeling too many emotions battling bare-knuckle inside it at once. Normally, I’d be at least three margaritas in by now, and most likely passed out facedown in the sand, getting the mother of all sunburns. This is…a lot to take in and process. I’m not good at processing either, not even my own shit, and this is someone else’s. I just know I don’t want Holter to feel what he’s gotta be feeling right now. I don’t want him to feel what I felt. He deserves better. Better than Bodee.

“Maybe he’s here for another overnight with you,” I say even though it’s a long shot. Holter’s dad is a toolbox. An empty toolbox. The kind that sits in the corner of a pristine garage, looking spotless for years on end, but ain’t got a damn thing going on inside. Bodee gave up Collette, then spends practically zero time with his own son.

Fuck him. Fuck him double.

“Doubt it,” Holter says beside me, not even bothering to go greet his dad. Not that he should have to. That’s on Bodee. Again.

“Why’s that?” I ask carefully. It’s not really a secret that Bodee’s an absent dad—we’re all clued in on that shit by now—but Holter’s tone…it’s not like he’s feeling sorry for himself. It’s like he’s stating a fact. He knows Bodee’s not here for an overnight with him.

The small restaurant gets cleared out for Bodee and Collette, then Bare and Bodee’s security detail hold everybody off, so the two of them can talk privately.

Must be fucking nice. All I got was the tip of the beach, but this motherfucker gets the entire beach plus anything on it he wants.

Not Collette. He can’t have Collette.

Holter blows out a breath, so I finally look over at him.

Or Holter. Bodee can’t have Holter either. Can he?

I don’t want him to.

“I can only go with my dad when this guy that works for him takes a vacation, and since Irelynn is the one that books them for him, we would’ve known ahead of time.”

That’s what Collette asked last time. “Is Jack enjoying his vacation?” It felt like it was code talk at the time, but I guess they really were talking about the guy’s vacation. But…why?

“Who’s the guy?” And why would Irelynn book his vacay? A name as big as Bodee’s gotta have at least one of his own personal assistants, if not more.

“His manager.”

Collette makes Bodee’s manager go on vacation before Bodee’s even allowed to see his son. And Collette’s assistant is the one that sets it all up…for him?

There’s gotta be a reason. A big one.

“What’s his name?” I ask, already trying to place a face, but it’s hard because I don’t remember any manager being there the time Bodee and I exchanged blows. I don’t remember much of anything from that night except the satisfying crunch of his cheek against my knuckles.

“John Davies, but my mom calls him Jack for some reason.”

None of this makes any sense.

“What’d he do?” Better yet, why the fuck does Bodee still keep John-Jack on his payroll if Collette won’t even let the guy around her kid? She lets me around Holter and I’m a grade-A degenerate.

Holter frowns. “I’m not sure. Something before I was born, I think. My mom said he’s like Slade, but you know? Without all the NDAs.”

I can’t be sure if an earthquake happens or it’s just the ground beneath my feet that shakes, but reality seems to shift all at once, and I almost sway sideways, completely disorientated.

What in the fresh hellpit does that mean?