Caged

Chapter 14

The house was dead quiet and Todd counted the fingers on his hands and the toes on his bare feet as he waited for Tim Graham to come get him. Like he'd asked, like he'd begged. Ten toes, ten fingers. Five toe nails had polish on them...a pretty pink, care of Lucia. He wore nothing but his soft blue jeans with the truly developed holes in the knees. The fluffy chair he sat in occupied a corner of the room where all the books were at and he took in the surrounding mess. The wrecked bed, the closet doors flung open, drawers still spilling over with clothes. There was a total of two packed suitcases and an open-mouthed duffel. He chuckled at Tea's thoroughness. He'd only take the duffel.

The duffel needed filling 'cause it was empty, pockets empty, soulless... he'd have to move shit out of the suitcases and put them in the black duffel. He'd need socks. And pants. And boxer-briefs...and his iPad. And a toothbrush. Keys. He needed keys to the house, to his office, to his cars, to Tea's heart. Hahahaha...he was hungry. Grilled cheese sounded good. The open duffel collapsed its mouth and the zipper looked like teeth...and...and...

Scratched his chest thoughtlessly, scratched until there was blood. He dropped his head and ran to the Princess, nodding out...

Damn wonderful. Almost like the old days. Almost breathtaking.

After Téa had pulled Lucia from the bathroom, he'd eventually gotten out, too. Dressed in those jeans. Heard Téa gathering the kids, the front door slamming shut, and then the BMW's engine as it idled in the driveway. He walked to the window to watch them. Téa had gotten out to adjust Reese's car seat. She was upset and struggled to get the seat right. She stood up and put her face in one hand, the other hand on her hip. She dug back in and fixed it. Finally got in the driver's seat. He watched them trail down the driveway and off into the city. She hadn't wanted the kids to say goodbye or see Tim come pick him up. He didn't actually talk to her about it...he simply knew it. She never even looked up at the window - that's how determined she was to get out.

He felt nothing watching them drive away - the heroin helped with that.

Now, he thought he'd been careful. Just did that one bit. His body was pretty used to that amount...except, in the middle of his pleasurable nod, while fully embracing the numbness to all things Manning, he woke up to a head rush so intense that he got hard. Grabbed his cock...and then pow...threw up violently on the marble tiles of his bathroom. Crawled to the toilet. Exactly as if he'd injected the heroin. In fact, he was so pulled under there was no need for the extra boost...the high was like coming on speed, an orgasm fired up with nitro that spread throughout his body and exploded in his brain. He was so blasted that he couldn't even fucking SEE.

He blindly made his way back to the chair...thinking bags, and toes...and fingers...and most importantly, most brilliantly...that he no longer needed to breathe. It was so natural, so easy to just lie there, still as...well, still as death. Utterly, totally… breathtaking. Just like the old days. Yes, yes, yes, yes...

God, he loved it more than anything. Then, the world went very black.

Light came into his head when his cheek got smacked and he opened his eyes to Tim's doctor-like expression. But he couldn't hear what his favorite person in the whole wide world was saying. The guy held Todd's face between warm hands and talked a little louder. The voice was muffled and he couldn't keep focus on his kind blue eyes. Kept going back under, like he was in an ocean. Waves kept pulling him beneath.

"That wasn't enough, Tim!"

"Give it some moments to work. Todd...I gotta move you...you gotta help me. MANNING! Come on, stay with me..."

He felt himself hit the hardwood floor. First the chair...then the floor...and then the black. The delicious...black.

The slaps on his face were hard and Todd fought those hands, or at least he thought he did. Black came again. Black kept coming. Then voices...there was definitely more than one. He kept hearing them, then not...in and out, in and out.

"...you gotta breathe, kiddo...keep breath-""

"-ere you go...Goddamn it...stay with-"

"Doc...do some-"

"I see you...look at me. That's right..."

"She'll die...she'll die without-"

"Don't panic yet-"

There was no way he was moving OR waking up. The one voice faded and Todd went back into the black, swimming long strokes into the cool depths of deadness. He remembered this, remembered shooting up back with Brandy and getting to this incredible place, a place he never could reach snorting powder. Jesus, it felt good, so good...so relieving. And in this place, life was perfect. Nothing hurt. There were no murders, no whores, no cuts, burns, scars, no kids getting abused, no wives getting wounded, no children of lost parents getting lost themselves, and in this place...there was no goddamn heroin. Life was perfect. Brilliant.

He didn't want to give it up...so he dug in hard…

"Shit...it's not working."

"Just a few more seconds...his heart rate's up, breathing's up...come on, kiddo, you gotta come home...come on back."

And damn, it worked...he was shocked awake, WIDE awake. He jerked to a sitting position, gasping for air, wide-eyed, confused as all get out. Immediately, he vomited right there on the hardwood floor, right in between his legs. He heard someone say, "Whoops..."

Another voice groaned, "Thank god... thank... fucking... god..."

Followed up with..."Get me something to clean him up. Aww...kiddo...Christ..."

Todd spit more bile out of his mouth...wiped the strings of saliva away...he was positively wet with sweat, tears forced out of his eyes, snot-nosed. A harsh ride to consciousness. He looked around, looking a bit frightened, confused. But then he remembered...

"I'm sorry," Todd whimpered to Tim who reached for one of the wet towels from Jed's hand. The high was completely gone. "You gave me Narcan...why? It hurts so much."

"I know it does," Tim said, dropping the towel on the mess on the floor.

"You overdosed," Jedediah said softly, standing tall next to his father. Tim was wiping the floor, then folding the dirty towel. Wiped one of Todd's hands that had gotten in the way. Wiped down the strands of hair that got caught in the fluid. Tenderly cleaned his face. So patiently he worked. Tim stood and walked into the bathroom. Bent to clean up the mess there, too. From the bathroom he turned a moment, looked at Todd. Jed could see the doctor take a breath of relief. For all the calm the doctor exhibited, he still had gotten scared. This had been damn close, like that one other time. Way long ago.

"Scared the shit out of me," Jed said, catching the brown-red stain on Todd's arm. Took Todd's arm in his hand and cleaned the dried blood up. Sighed as he did it, damned sorrowful that Todd had gotten into mainlining again. Wiped the hands once more. Todd was like a puppy, not objecting, not fighting, jittery. Jedediah had never seen him quite like this. It saddened him...behind the lingering terror.

"You okay, Pops? The hell is goin' on?"

"I couldn't have od'd...I don't use that much..." He shook his head, complete disbelief on his face. But then...maybe...it was because he wasn't used to using twice in two days...maybe. He'd watched Jed wipe the blood away but it wasn't registering. He thought he hurt himself somewhere. Maybe when he'd puked in the bathroom. He looked there, into the distance. Trying to put shit together. That's as far as the thought went. He looked back at Jed, said quietly, "I'm sorry, Jed. I'm so sorry."

"Just glad this didn't end...another way."

Tim returned with a fresh wet washcloth and Todd took it, holding it to his face a second before pulling back and spitting more into it. The two then helped him to his feet. "Had we been a little later," the doctor said, taking the washcloth out of Todd's hand, "this would have definitely ended another way. We gotta go. Come on."

Todd shook his head, "No, I can't go anywhere..."

Tim looked seriously at his patient, his usual calm finally cracking. "Are you kidding me? You have GOT to quit, Manning! Jesus CHRIST!" With that, shockingly, Tim took that washcloth and threw it across the room. "I was going to have to tell your wife that you DIED today! You feeling this?! Your kids nearly LOST YOU!"

Even Jed was surprised at Doctor Graham, the king of serenity.

"Where are you taking me?" Todd put his hand out, reaching for Tim's shirt, grabbing the fabric in a desperate fist. He eyed his doctor, fearful. He was shaking, terrified. "Please, please don't put me in Granite...I don't want residential. I can't...I can't leave them. Tim? Please?"

Tim looked at Jedediah who only looked sad. Jed held Todd's arm gently, "Dad...you nearly died. You understand? I came in and your lips and fingernails were blue...you weren't breathing. You were dying. Had I not come...had Tim gotten held up, had he not decided to bring the narcan-shit. This is fucking serious."

"It was an accident, though." His eyes bounced from the doc to his son, back and forth, back and forth.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. Last words." Jed wasn't angry, he was scared.

Todd pulled away, feeling small and weak and broken. He sat on the bed and looked up at the men in front of him. He wondered where the kids were...but then remembered Téa driving away, and Lucia crying that she didn't want him to die in the war, and...and...and all he wanted was to be back there again. Back in the black, back under the water, back... back... back.

"Can we please try outpatient? I want...I want...I want help...I know I need it..." Then the tears started. And he felt like the biggest pussy on earth - hunched over, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking from the sweeping sadness that overtook him. The Narcan hurt not because it burned or anything like that, but because it disconnected the heroin receptors all at once so that like a tsunami, all the pain he'd been trying to avoid came forward in one blow. Few people could handle that kind of hurt without falling apart. Jedediah sat next to him, putting his arm around his weeping father. The scene was so pathetic that Jed couldn't help it.

Sighing hard, Tim rubbed his face, "Okay, look, let's make a deal. You come to Llanview Psych and stay a couple of days. We talk, you and me, we get a good picture of what we're dealing with, and then you decide. How's that?"

After a minute, after he gently shook off his kid, he whispered, "Okay...okay...but no more than a day. And I need to talk to people...you can't take away my cell. I need it."

"We'll figure out something. Come on. Let's go. NOW."

Todd looked at Jedediah whose features showed that he hadn't yet let go of the near-miss. "Please, Dad. I thought you were done with this. At least...to this degree. It's been a long time."

"I know," Todd sighed, visibly shivering. "I don't understand...I did the same amount I always do."

"Get him a shirt, jacket...something," Tim said, "He's in shock." Tim pulled out his own cell and spoke in somber tones to someone, stepping into the hallway. Todd watched him, again, like a puppy.

There was no arguing the evidence. Just like his kid said, this was fucking serious.

Jed went to the drawers and pulled out a t-shirt, a zippered sweatshirt. Got him a clean pair of jeans and boxer briefs. Handed them to Todd who quickly stripped, all modesty gone. Once dressed, he stepped over to the dresser, looking for the heroin dust that he'd snorted away. Ran his fingertips across the wood. Licked them. Looked back on his arm where the blood had been. The afternoon came back to him. Fuck. Someone had kissed him. He touched his lips. He was really mixed up. He rubbed his arm...wanting a syringe for real now. Leaned on the dresser's top and fought wracking sobs that were building in his chest. He looked at Tim with such misery that the doctor walked over to him and rubbed his shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay. We're going to fix this."

"I don't know myself without it - I don't know if I can fix it."

"Well, yeah, you've been abusing heroin for nearly ten years. 'Course you don't know who you are without it. And truthfully..." His tone softened and he bent his head to get a little closer. "Truthfully, it's going to be near impossible to break without residential treatment."

"I can't leave them. You don't understand."

Jedediah DID understand. He was kind of agreeing with Todd. At least for now, with things so hot. "Doc, maybe outpatient would work? He can stay with me. I got his old Penthouse. Plenty of room. I mean...since Téa kicked him out and everything. That way he doesn't have to actually...leave."

Tim knocked his head back, the mess and suitcases suddenly making sense. "Ooookay...I see. You guys had a fight...I get it. Let's not make any commitments now. More tomorrow. When your head is clearer."

Tim turned to Jedediah, "Bring a bag later tonight to the hospital. Have Téa call me. I'll get him there myself. He's okay, Jed. You all right?"

Jedediah looked at Todd who just stared at the packed suitcases, looking like he was still trying to figure out the mess, and nodded. He also took a deep, relieving breath. "Yeah...we been in worse places. I'm just a little shell-shocked right now. This was the last thing I thought I'd find when Téa called me earlier today. She told me he had to get out after last night but she didn't mention THIS."

"So what happened last night?"

"Well...they had a fight, like you said. He can tell you the rest. Long story. Um...I'm going to kick it here. Hang out here until we know where he's going. Maybe Téa will have gotten over it? But like I said, he can stay with me."

Tim's cell phone buzzed and he stepped away again.

Todd had wandered into the vastness of the room, looking around. Confused. Kept rubbing his arm where the blood had been. He knew himself...he did not take enough to overdose. God, he wanted to go back to the deadness...it had been JUST like before. And that's when it hit him. It had been...just like with Brandy. The not-breathing thing. A shudder of desire ran through him...fuck...a very bad seed had been planted with this little...foray.

Jed got close to him, pulling him out of his memories, and said in a low voice, "Where's your gear, Pops?"

"Huh?"

"Your shit...the needles, the lighter...the latex...or did you use a belt? You're obviously shooting up again. Blood was all over your arm."

"You think that was from an injection?"

"Dad...yeah..."

Todd instinctively rubbed his arm, not looking, still too shocky. "Jed, I don't have any of that shit here. Look around. I meant what I said...I used a regular amount...the usual way...this shouldn't have happened."

"Just snorted it..."

"Yes...and not that much. For fuck's sake, my kids were home. What I did was bad enough...but...I'd never fucking dose up with a needle...not here, not like that. At least...not today, not yesterday...not since before Statesville. Not like before." He was worried...Jed filled in the thought.

"Not so sure about tomorrow, though."

Todd cursed under his breath, rubbing that arm. Jed could practically feel his father's hidden desires and it blew Jed's mind. He'd nearly died and here he was, not fifteen minutes later...wishing to get back there again. Addiction is a horrible, horrible pit of hell. Jed sighed...

Tim came to them, held Todd's shoulder, saying softly but firmly. "Come on." Todd agreed and followed his friend out. Taking one last look at Jed, perplexed but not quite following. Too much other shit crowding the real mystery.

Jed though...he wasn't that crowded.

The two left down the hallway and Jedediah looked around the room, at the mess...he looked towards the window, towards the seat where Todd had been. Jed knelt, then got low on the floor on his belly, like a snake. Searched under the bed, the furniture and the chairs. Something caught his eye. Shiny in the late afternoon light. Walking over there, he bent and picked up a syringe that had slipped under the chair. Blood on the needle. Todd lied to him? Surprise, surprise.

But then, where was the spoon or the little bottle caps he used to use? Dirty cotton balls. The lighter. The latex strap. Even a belt lying around. For being that out of it, there is no way he'd have had the clarity of mind to put shit away...all the gear should have been where he'd shot up. Either by the chair...or in the bathroom. Maybe the bed.

Jed looked all over. Found nothing. Dug into drawers, the closet, in between the mattresses. He pressed the pillows and the seat cushions. Ran his hands behind the picture frames. There was a safe in the closet and he knew the combo. Téa had shared it. Opened it up...found cash, papers, jewelry. Nothing special. Certainly no drug paraphernalia.

He walked back to the bathroom again...and saw nothing. No latex strap, no spoon, no cotton, no blood on the floor 'cause Todd was always a messy IV user...nothing, just the syringe. Something wasn't right.

He wrapped the needle up in tissue and booked it downstairs, stuffing the thing in his bicycle bag. Hiked the bag on his shoulder and opened the front door. The two men were still here, Tim on the cell in the car, Todd smoking a cigarette on the passenger side, his arm hanging outside the window. Much calmer. Much more accepting.

From the front, Jedediah watched Tim start up the car, put his seat belt on, and begin driving down the driveway. So many times, Todd went to get help...and simply...never made it there. Running, running...always running, just like Jed used to do.

Somehow though, Jed wondered whether this was one time Todd shouldn't make it. He needed to be out and about. Something nagged at him...someone wanted Todd put away wet. Maybe...dead?

Jed broke into a sprint, slamming the car door with his fist. The car jerked to a stop.

"I'm going with you. I don't trust him."

Jedediah got inside and the three men took off.

From the shadows at the side of the Manning house, Rolon Lopez stepped into the light. Leticia had told him that Todd had gotten with her last night, had gotten good and fucked up once again, handjob and all. Rolon knew his friend pretty well...next step was physical addiction. Rolon had seen these jumps in use before, a repeating cycle since Statesville. First he chipped, then he started in on the hard use. Then he'd get hooked, then he'd kick...and the cycle would begin anew.

Sure enough, when Rolon went into the house to nose around after the wife left with the kids, he found Todd nodded out. He hadn't really expected it. He wanted to plant the drug...tempt Todd into mainlining because that was death, and a perfect setup. Eh...who was he kidding. He'd been flying by the seat of his pants. But he decided that he'd take advantage. So he stroked the long hair of his unconscious friend, saying a kind of goodbye. He loved him, he did. They'd been through a lot of shit together.

It hurt a little to lift the man's deeply scarred arm and tie the latex. Hurt when he saw a good vein and stuck him with the syringe. It hurt more to push down on the barrel and watch the powerful hit go in. When Rolon untied the latex and pulled out the syringe, the heroin hit the guy's blood like fucking fire and Todd's eyes flew open. Rolon jumped back, shocked that it had affected his friend that way. He stuffed the latex in his pocket, but the syringe had dropped, disappeared. Totally couldn't find it.

Todd had stumbled to the bathroom, fell, vomiting hard on the floor, barely making the rest of the trip to the can. He ambled back in the room with eyes nearly closed and fell back into the chair, so gone that he didn't even see Rolon...fell back asleep like it was all so normal. Rolon sat for a while watching Todd...watched the breathing slow...Rolon felt his heart for the slowed beat. He bent and kissed him on the mouth, old-school Cuban style.

"Goodbye, hermano. Forgive me."

He'd been so SURE it was enough. He always said Manning was fucking impossible to kill and once again, he was proven right. Rolon sighed and he made his way to the back of the house. Despite the love, the guy had become a major problem to MK. A serious liability. Pedro had become too soft on Manning...too accommodating. Things had to be done.

Damn.

R.J. Gannon's bar was probably the prettiest in all of Llantano County. Dark woods, high beams, mirrors in all the right places, lounge chairs that you sunk into, soft metal tables that you could lick caviar off of. He laughed a deep laugh as he hung up his cell, chuckling at one of his friends' woman problems. He poured a drink for a customer and then went back to his inventory. Marking the bottles along the wall on paper, noting the low ones, noting what there was too much of. His signature dreads decorated with beads for the last few months, not too much mind you, just enough, swung as he walked, adding to his overall sexiness. Yeah, he couldn't help it. Born that way.

The night was just getting started, but it was going to be a quiet one. It was a Sunday after all.

When he was done, he put the paperwork away and looked at his cell. Listened again to Todd's threatening message. "Bastard. I'm not Jed's goddamn babysitter." Hit the delete button, cursing Todd again.

They had a touchy relationship due to Téa Delgado Manning. She'd taken to coming here during Todd's stint in Statesville, enjoying R.J.'s bar and his company. Her first few times, however, she was downright blue. Todd had just gone to prison and she was fit to be tied, broken-hearted at the whole thing. And pregnant to boot.

So R.J. took to talking to her, took to plying her with a few virgin drinks to bring out her smile. They began a whole pursuit of virgin cocktails. They'd gotten to be good friends.

Then one day...well, she was six months pregnant and glowing like an angel. Everyone could see it. And this...bastard of a man, this tall, strapping Latino dude started hitting on her. And she was responding. She liked the attention...she liked his touches of her. She danced with that baby bump and the two seemed like shit was gonna happen. R.J. got real protective of her and that baby. He didn't give a shit about Manning...all he cared about was Téa and who would be...Lucia.

So he got onto that dance floor with his bouncers and fuckin' bounced that guy. Swept Téa away into his office...and she cried real hard tears. She just wanted to be with Todd again. And he wouldn't let her see him and...R.J. kissed her. Kissed her hotly...and touched her, touched her skin, and the next thing he knew, he was inside of her. The two were on his couch in his office and...fuck. Made love with that baby in between them.

Might as well have been the man himself in between them.

What a fuckin' mess that was.

Four years of a fuckin' mess.

Téa had papers all ready to go, R.J. and her convinced they were in love, and...could make a real go of things...but then Manning got out. And poof...R.J. disappeared like fog burned off by a hot sun.

Shit, he could still remember the sight of Todd Manning in the bar, like out of a western movie. He slammed the doors open, stalked across that wood floor, Statesville all over him. Hair swinging, tattoos screaming. He'd been home one freaking day. He had that walk, that injured panther's walk...and R.J. knew. Oh god, he knew that Todd KNEW.

Before R.J. could grab his trusty nine, he got a spit wad in his face and Todd's fist dead center in his throat. In all of R.J's life, he'd never been hit that hard. It was like that sonofabitch had weights in his knuckles. R.J. dropped like a stone, choking near to death. A bouncer came flying at Todd, two of them, and one, two, slashes of a switchblade out of nowhere and those guys were flat on their backs grabbing at their slashed necks, guns still holstered. Todd lifted R.J. by the shirt in one hand, the dreads in the other, and dragged him to the back office where he slammed the shit out R.J. He hardly got a breath of air...before Todd was bent over and spitting words in his face...

You never...NEVER fuckin' talk to her, look at her, call her...think her fuckin' name in that fuckin' Jamaican head of yours. If you do...I will KILL you. I will cut your dick off, make you eat it, and then I will fuckin' KILL your black ass.

With that, all R.J. remembered was Todd's boot barrelling down on his head, his scowling mug above that boot. Lights...out. Jesus, R.J. Gannon was a tough guy, but he'd been out of Joliet a long time. Todd...had just gotten out...and he'd been turned into an animal. R.J. didn't take revenge. He could have, but he let it go. He understood.

Plus...he had Jedediah. Todd would always tread lightly because of it. R.J. allowed Todd that one assault. One more move...and R.J. could have Jedediah clipped out the sky...easy as pie. Todd knew that.

Not that R.J. would ever want to direct his own venom against that kid...R.J. smiled. He started working with Jed right after Téa started coming to the bar. He was eighteen and needed a job so R.J. hired him to do inventory, wash dishes. From there...their relationship grew. All kinds of shit they'd been into together, and that kid shined. He was smart, strong in character, and knew how to fight. And he was a pilot. What a great deal. It was fun. Pure fun. They'd flown all over the country, delivering goods, all kinds of... um... product. Some legal, some...not so much.

So great was Jed that R.J. couldn't believe he was Manning's son. But then, there were times when he'd be well reminded that Jed Chant was a Manning through and through. Times when they came across misbehaving customers, cons who thought they could get the better of R.J. and his liquor. Jedediah would wail on them, kicking the shit out of them, a big bad-ass knife ending up in those cons' throats...and THAT's when R.J. saw the connection. Jedediah wasn't a big man...but he was mean and fast. Just like his fuckin' dad.

Good times. R.J. took a shot of rum at the recollection. Wished for the death of a certain someone.

When R.J. looked up, he saw the devil herself in the door...and cursed. Téa Delgado Manning sauntered her way across the room, swinging those hips, tapping those heels. She hit the bar and smiled at her old friend. "Vodka tonic," she said. It had been a while since they'd seen each other. Always platonic. Of course. Her eyes, though...they were icy.

"He know you here?" R.J. asked. The usual question.

"Nope… he's in rehab."

"Bullshit."

She shook her head. "No, no, really, he's using again."

R.J. poured the drink and slid it across the counter top. Sighed. Held her gaze.

"Wait...you're saying bullshit to the rehab."

"He loves that shit - he'll never give it up."

She took a long swallow. "You know about the women who give it to him?"

"You mean, Leticia and Jovanna."

"God damn it. And of course, you know about Mambo Kings. THAT I knew."

He sighed again, sniffed, looking around for unwanted listeners. "Woman...you talk too loud. Come to my office. Let's talk there."

Inside his office, the two looked at each other, remembering too many nights, too much closeness. He cleared his throat and sat on the couch. Téa took a seat across from him. "He knows about us...you and me."

He sniffed, looked around, stopped on her beautiful face. "I know. I have the scars to prove it."

Téa paused, closing her eyes momentarily. "He hit you."

He gave her a "no shit" look.

"When?"

"Day after he came home from Statesville. Left your bed, and came straight here. Beat the shit outta me. Warned me to stay away from you. I obliged, woman. Lost my voice for damn near a month..."

Her iciness faded. She'd seen what R.J. was referring to...Todd punching someone in the throat. "I'm sorry." Her voice had softened and she got up, moving in next to him. "I'm so sorry."

He smiled and gazed at her, "Hey, I wasn't surprised. If you were MY woman, I'd have done the same thing. Sometimes...I feel like doing it right back at him. But...you chose. And I respect that."

She leaned her head on his shoulder and he settled back with her. A little...hesitatingly. Felt like a dog that had been smacked one too many times. Fully expected Manning to come ramming through the door to his office. Even after three years.

"And yes," he said, "I more than know about MK. I work with them, with your husband. They come here. Jovanna is one of my girls, sorry to say, but because of that, I know what your bastard of a husband does with his time away from you." R.J.'s expression darkened into a bitter hate. Téa bit down on her teeth, her own features darkening with an even deeper hate. She let him talk.

"Leticia is an MK girl. Works their bars. Jovanna is good friends with Leticia. Anyway, your husband and me...we got an understanding, a connection. In fact...I'm trying to help with this sitch regarding Los Serranos. It's got MK in a bind."

Pulling away from him, she looked surprised. "Really?"

"Really...I'm trying to help them? Really, I know your man's dates, or...really, they're in a bind?"

"All of it. How are you trying to help?"

"I'm in with the Jamaican Posse...they're my people and I'm helping broker a truce. The Jamaicans are sort of the...NATO of Pennsylvania gang life. Anyway, the war between the Irish and the Serranos is causing MK trouble because MK deals with both groups and neither group wants MK dealing with the other, yet both are major sources of business for MK...follow me?"

"You mean Switzerland... Jamaicans are like Switzerland, neutral... NATO is a... trade agreement-" He just looked at her. She nodded. "More like elementary school, all these politics."

He shook his head and then smiled slightly, "Yeah...elementary school with guns and knives."

"So does he have dates with these women?"

"You really want to know?"

Téa bit her lip...and then said, "Yes."

"How detailed?"

"Do you...know the details?"

"The girls talk."

"Just lay it out, R.J. He won't." She got sad at that...thought about some things Todd had said, how Téa… TÉA closed herself off from him.

R.J. took her hand in his, the action pulling her out of her thoughts, back to the details… smiled at her, "He doesn't deserve you, you know."

"Just tell me."

"Okay. I'm gonna tell ya'... he's a shithead, but maybe...anyway..." He paused, caressing her hand. "Téa, he don't sleep with them, he don't use these women like you might think. He got limitations on his...contact...with them, and he's a real prick about it." Téa needed more. He sighed, blowing air out of his mouth, clearly uncomfortable but trying to power through. "If the girls offer more than he wants, he'll get pretty rough with them. He's a mean bastard...then he gets high...then he wants..." R.J. stopped. "Téa..."

Téa sighed, air catching in her throat, a strong wave of pain pressing against her insides. She put her hand on R.J.'s mouth, his lips, and turned away. Brandy lived in these women… she'd never go away. She seemed more alive now, than ever. She recalled the night he got interrogated. He wanted her to touch him, just her hand, and he'd gotten a little high off of it. It screamed of addiction. She remembered all too well - that hadn't been the only time he acted that way.

"Let me finish," she said. "He just wants them to touch him. Just...a hand."

"Yeah. Nothin' else."

"Does he kiss them, touch them back?"

"Yeah, sometimes, so they say. I mean, I don't know for sure, but like I said...he's real specific in his wants, real limited, real...intense. But, baby, Téa, it's all about the heroin. Nothin' else. When he's not using, he don't have anything to do with these women. I don't know why the hell I'm defending the guy...shit." No, he lied. He knew why. He defended for Téa. So her heart wouldn't be as hurt as it could be. Otherwise...hell no. Todd was a bastard who needed killing.

"How often does this happen?"

R.J. smiled sadly, "God, girl..."

"Just tell me."

"Goes up and down. Once a week to once a month? He has his dry spells."

She sighed again, more harshly. "Once a week...my god..."

"You asked."

"How is this truce going to help Todd, not that you care..."

"I care about you. If shit's coming down on him...it's coming down on you and the kids. So I care. But...here's the idea...if the war quits, maybe Bo will cool his pursuit of MK, of your husband. Simple. Small chance...but it's better than nothing. Plus...no more dead innocent teenagers."

Téa smiled sadly and settled back in with him, missing her friendship with him. "You must hate him, blindly."

"That I do. He don't deserve your love. He don't deserve anybody's love." In a quiet voice, he added, "You should have left him when you had the chance. Maybe there's still a way out for you." He eyed Téa, a grim expression on his face. He wasn't kidding.

But she hurt at his words...god, even after learning of the worst betrayal. The thought of Ty's un-fixable killer dogs. Todd deserved love, even so. Even if. Crazily, she felt a moment of panic, that she needed to see him, that she needed to tell him again that he was loved. That there was still hope for him.

For them? She couldn't think of it. She knew what she was getting into when she took him to her bed after Statesville. After Sixteenth Street. He was an addict...would always be one. Heroin would always be his salvation no matter how far away from it he was. And with that, comes...risk. No, no, R.J. was wrong. He deserved love. Even so, even if. Even if she could only love him from far away. From behind very...high...walls.

They were quiet, but R.J. could see that he hit a sore spot with Téa. She had moved a little away from him. Capitulating to her complicated feelings for Manning, he asked, "Is he okay?"

"He's at Llanview Psych...supposedly until tomorrow." Her phone buzzed at that. And she dug it out of her purse. Read a text. Put the cell down on her lap and sighed heavily. "Oh my god...I don't believe it..." Another text popped up. She read that, too..., cursing under her breath, "Damn it."

"What?"

"He stayed there an entire two hours. He split. But he wasn't alone...he's got Jedediah with him. What the hell?"

"He took off from his rehab...rehab for two hours. For a ten-year heron addiction."

"Yes. But he has Jed."

"Maybe he went home..."

"I threw him out...he's not at home."

R.J. sniffed, eyed her, a little interested in this tidbit of info, and pulled out his cell. "I'll make calls. Jed and I track him pretty damn good...we're the Todd Manning hound dogs. Mostly so he don't catch us off-guard." He smiled at her, winked. Assuring her. He figured she was going to start crying, maybe get hysterical on him. He got up for the tissues...and Téa got up, too.

Except...she was cool as a cucumber.

She said, "I want to know where I can find this Leticia... and Jovanna. And this bastard, Pedro Moreno. Two possibilities if I know my husband. First, when he's gone off the deep end due to heroin...he gets rabid. He'll be heading to his dealers. Find THEM, and you'll find HIM. Jed is probably just protecting him, just keeping tabs. Second possibility...he might be on a tear regarding this investigation which means...he's rabid and is going to the top of the food chain for help...Pedro Moreno. Again, he's got Jedediah as his ride, or...again, Jed is along to keep tabs."

R.J. eyed her..."Woman..." The iciness had returned.

"If you're a hound dog, then I'm a retriever. So let me...retrieve. Give me... their fucking... locations." She smiled at him. Winked at him. Inside, she wept. Todd was running, like before. Sixteenth Street loomed in front of her. God, god...

R.J. looked at Téa and realized why she took on Manning's name. She was going to kick some ass, maybe. That poor bastard didn't know what was coming. God help the women she might find him with. God damn.

"Let's go," he said. "You're not hunting OR retrieving without me."

And she smiled at him...agreeing, an edge of sadness there. "Then let's go."

To be continued...