DRASTIC (Book 4 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 72: Drummer Boys Get Sucker Punched

Bodie, Some Weeks Later,

My woman is nonstop. The tour finally finished four days ago. In the last ninety-six hours, Marley hurried our family of three to a mini beach vacation with Gwen's family on the North Carolina coast and spent half of it direct messaging with Jade over the installation of Doc Gorgeous' new office at Emsworth Agency.

I have to give it to Jade. She knows her stuff. Marley's new office suits her perfectly.

I'm trying to talk Marley into a little christening party for two, when Riley walks in, takes a look around says casually, "Nice design elements, Marley. Modern but somehow classic. Bold without being oppressive. Like you. Bodie, can I have a word?"

I follow him into the hall where he turns swiftly and pops me in the mouth.

Fuck, he struck like a goddamn viper. I taste blood. With my tongue I feel along the slit my bottom teeth made in my inner lip. I concentrate on that, and not the thought of retaliation as I grin at him.

"I deserve that."

"Too fucking right you do."

I snicker. "You're just pissed that I got one over on you."

"I'm pissed that you didn't simply tell me how you agreed to help Row and ask me for the damn sample. I would have given it to you willingly, and also given her the space to emotionally process the result before I...devised a scenario to open a dialogue with her. We could have...collaborated, you and I. Didn't you ever think...there was a more civilized way to handle her request?"

Shit. He's right. He would have totally played it like that. I forget that Riley sees all, knows all, hears all and never reacts to it, unless he's puppeteering us above the stage.

I wipe blood. "Actually? No I didn't. I guess I prefer force to manipulation. Sorry. You're right, there was probably a better way."

It really is true. I know it doesn't seem like that, considering how I roll, but I'm fucking sick of manipulating people.

His lips twitch and he puts his hands in his pockets. "Well, it wouldn't have changed the outcome, so it doesn't really matter now, does it?"

It's the first time I've seen Riley since the hospital. "No I guess not. How are you, man?"

"Good. Row and I are...really good, all things considered. I'm just not sure how things will change with Matt off tour..."

I put a hand to my mouth, snickering. "Yeah, Trace said you've been shacking up with Row at Matt's place. Should be interesting times, now that Daddy's home...make sure you record some of it, yeah?"

He rolls his eyes and redirects.

"Speaking of  interesting events, I'd be interested to see Avery Thompson profiting a little less in his company which is hardly more than a sweatshop for desperate musical artists. Where are you with that?"

"It takes time to ruin a man and take his company."

"Try harder. I know he's dirty. I know he's taking advantage of the inexperienced musicians he draws in. Have you had a look at his books?"

"Not yet."

The books I'm concerned about are Daemon's. We are flying home to Atlanta tomorrow and I'll be all over his transactions like a fucking accountant for the next few weeks.

Marley walks from her office, looking with disbelief at my swelling lip.

She turns to Riley. He raises his eyebrows to her in challenge. She grins at him.

"Serves you right," she says lightly patting me on the chest.

Then she and Riley sweep out the door for a business lunch with Syd Stoltz, to finalize his contract for producing our new album. He's not happy it's happening in Atlanta. Says we need that west coast studio vibe. He's just bitchin' about the personal inconvenience because Soundcrush makes our own vibe where ever we go. Riley and Marley will find some way to win him over.

I'm not at all worried about that.

I'm fucking with Ariadne by pretending that I'm going to put on the receptionist's headset and take calls—the receptionist is also out to lunch—when Row glides into view beyond the glass front of the office.

She's wearing about ten pounds of jewelry and she's compensated for the extra weight by cutting most of her jeans away and also the sides of her white NYC t-shirt out to reveal a lacy black bra. Her hair looks slightly less gray and edging toward the platinum side.

Good for her. What do they say about a woman getting a new style? Change your hair, change your life?

She walks in with some paperwork and I throw up my hands, "RDM! How you gonna throw me under the bus with that special favor I did you!?!? Look what your man just did!?!?" I point to my lip.

Ariadne hustles to take the paperwork from Row and eagerly escapes in her office—I think she is trying to shirk entertaining me—in about as long as it takes Row's eyes to widen as she stares at my lip. She bites her own in sympathy.

"Riley did that?"

"Retaliation."

She makes a cringey face. "Sorry. I didn't think about him being upset with you when I decided to come clean."

"No worries, I'm just messin' with ya." I sling an arm around her. I don't ask how she is, because Trace has been keeping me up to date and says that she is doing okay but hates to be asked how she is. She won't even take Street's calls from Florence anymore because he won't stop asking her if she's okay.

Speaking of Trace, there's another one whose shit list I'm currently on. Damn, can I help it if his baby sister didn't come to him in a moment of crisis, but to me instead? Yet somehow, he's not irritated at her over it. Only me.

She pulls at my swelling lip, inspecting it.

"Owwwww!" I jerk away, "That fucking hurt."

"Pussy," she snickers. "But I am sorry that I asked for your shady help then double crossed you. Buy you lunch to make up for it?"

"Mmmmm..." I rub my stomach. "Where can a del Marco get the best table--a place they would make me wait just like all the other poor bastards?"

She flips on her aviators. "The Hungry Cat for a hungry cat?"

"Hell yeah. We out!" I call to Ariadne, holding the door for Row.

"Thanks for the invite!" she yells sarcastically.

"I brought you all those weird Greek pastries I can't pronounce as a breakfast treat, now you want lunch, too? Well get your ass out here then! Ain't got no time to wait. You can make hotel managers cry over Strut's riders later!"

She sticks her head around the door, smiling, chewing on one of the aforementioned pastries. "I'm just kidding, go enjoy your lunch. But I know you didn't buy these to be nice. You're trying to make me fat, aren't you?"

I grin. Ariadne never lets me have the last word. I bought the pastries to shut her up, but obviously she can chew and talk. I chuck deuces at her and Row and I roll down the hall.

"Be nice to her," Row admonishes me.

"Row, there's just not enough of old Bodie's heart to go around to everyone. My nice guy heart is wearing out, beating for Marley, and Mac, and Tam, and Bells and Evangeline, and well, now there's you, friend."

Row smiles. "You don't have to be nice to me. We can be evil together."

"If you only knew the extent of my evil, girl. If you only knew."