Many thanks to KarenES for her excellent beta.
"Claybourne," the guard's voice called out as the door slid open in front of Deacon's cell. The guard walked up and stood there as Deacon sat up from the bed in the corner of the small cell. "C'mon, get your stuff."
Deacon looked over at the book he'd been reading, the toothbrush sitting on the edge of the sink and stood up. "I'm good," he responded, as he cradled his left arm against his body.
The guard stepped back and waited as Deacon walked out of the cell.
"What's going on?" Deacon asked.
"Hell if I know," the guard replied. "But it looks like someone finally bailed your sorry ass out of here."
Deacon pulled the cotton T-shirt over his bandaged hand, then gingerly pulled it over his head. His broken ribs ached with the pain he didn't think would be going away anytime soon. He tried to tie the string holding the waist of the cotton pants they'd given him, but without a functional left hand, it didn't do him much good. Hopefully they'd stay up long enough to get him wherever he was going.
When she'd come in yesterday, Scarlett said she was trying to get bail together-Deacon didn't want to think what she might have had to do to raise that kind of money. Not that he wanted her to do it-right now there was one place he deserved to be and it was in that cell.
He followed the guard down the hall into the reception area. They had him sign his name and then sent him out the door. He hadn't even worried there might be press outside until he heard them shouting his name-he squinted against the sun, not sure which way to turn, until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
"C'mon, Deacon-she's waiting in the car for you."
He looked up to see Bo, Juliette's bodyguard standing next to him. Juliette. Of course. He nodded and followed Bo down to the car waiting at the curb.
The door closed behind him and Bo quickly slid into the driver's seat and pulled them away from the clutch of paparazzi. Where they just sitting out there in case he'd be released or had someone given them a tip? He started to ask Juliette, then just sighed.
"You didn't have to do that," he said after they'd ridden in silence for a few minutes.
She shook her head. "Yeah, I'd like to say I did it for you, but that's not the truth."
Deacon sighed and laid his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes.
"You know, my mama, she fell off the wagon a lot when I was growing up. There were lots of times I needed to have her around, looking after me," Juliette said. "Like when I was 13 and my other parent was gone-I needed her then."
Deacon half opened his left eye, fixing it on her. "What are you talkin' about Juliette."
"Thirteen. It's a hard age-hard for a girl to not have her parents bein' adults and…"
"What the hell are you talkin' about, Juliette? You don't…"
Juliette turned to Deacon, fixing her stare on him. "I was at the hospital with Maddie. I saw Rayna. She told me what happened."
"Rayna's awake?" Deacon sat upright.
Juliette shook her head. "No, Maddie told me-Maddie told me what you found out, that she's your daughter."
"I'm nobody's father," Deacon spat out.
"The hell you aren't," Juliette responded. "You have a responsibility to a little girl who I know you care about, who thinks that she started all of this, who doesn't understand yet how demons can haunt a person and turn them into someone they'd never even recognize. I know you're hurt and you're suffering and Rayna screwed you over and lied to you, but that little girl, she thinks this is all her fault and that's just bullshit, Deacon Claybourne."
"Let me out," Deacon said quietly. "This is not your problem, Juliette."
"No," Juliette replied. Bo had pulled over and put the car into park. "I'm not letting you disappear down into this dark hole again, Deacon. So, here's what we're gonna do-you're going into that hospital and seeing a doctor about your hand and getting whatever surgery you need to fix it up so that you can keep playing music. Then you're gonna go get yourself cleaned up again. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, once you can be a decent person, you're going to make sure that Maddie understands that none of this was her fault."
Deacon raised his right hand up to his mouth. He thought he might be sick, right there in the car. He had been thinking of everything else-of the lie, of the betrayal, of Rayna's broken body when he pulled her from the truck, of his hand, his broken dreams, the loss of his fragile hold on sobriety.
He'd never thought about Maddie and what this must be doing to her.
"I'm not a father," he said again. "I don't deserve to be anybody's father."
"I don't believe that," Juliette replied. "I think you're a sorry S-O-B who has a lot of faults, but you're not the only person in the world who struggles, Deacon. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and take some responsibility. Sure, we'd all like things to be different, but you know what? It is what it is."
TBC