Redemption (Tattoos & Tears - Brody Book 1) Page 2

  I make it to our usual spot in Lewisham in record time; the traffic is practically non-existent at this golden hour. The bell chimes, signalling my entrance to the Rise and Shine Café. I have been coming to this café for years, even before we became famous. It is my sanctuary, my place that I go to think and get my head on straight. I have composed some of the bands best and most famous guitar riffs here, so it has a special place in my heart. A picture of Rancid Vengeance, which has all of our autographs on takes pride of place over the counter.

  As soon as I step through the door, it feels like…home. The smell of home cooking, coffee, the old school décor of worn shabby chic and London themed designs throughout, making me proud to be from the wonderful capital. I order myself a cup of coffee and the girl behind the counter, Emmy smiles brightly at me.

  “Brody! It’s so good to see you!” she says enthusiastically, and I can’t help but return her smile. She really is a sweet kid. Emmy is around five feet eight inches, quite tall for a girl her age, with long blonde hair pulled into a side ponytail. Her eyes are an unusual shade of sea green, which emphasise the smattering of freckles across her nose. Her straight up, straight down, gaunt figure makes her ample breasts look out of place.

  “It’s good to see you too, kid.”

  She narrows her eyes at me as I call her kid.

  “You know I don’t like it when you call me kid, Brody. I was twenty-one last week,” she pouts sulkily.

  I place my hand on my heart, and she grins shyly. “Happy birthday for last week, babe.”

  I cock my eyebrow at her, and she sticks her tongue out at me.

  “I’m so sorry I missed it; I’ve been super busy; you know how it is,” I say genuinely, and I almost feel guilty that I am here to score drugs. You are such a prick, Hart. She pours my coffee and reaches under the counter.

  “Here, I saved this for you.”

  She pushes a large square package, wrapped in tin foil towards me and my heart beat starts to quicken. Shit, does she know?

  “It’s a piece of my birthday cake. I’ve been waiting for you to come in, and I thought I’d save you a bit. I know how much of a sweet tooth you have!”

  She giggles nervously, and I take it as my heartbeat returns to normal. Of course, she doesn’t know, dickhead. Paranoid much?

  “Thank you so much, that’s so thoughtful.”

  I leap up on the counter and kiss her on the cheek, causing her face to flame. I jump down, and she looks away bashfully.

  “Birthday kiss, for my best girl.”

  I wink cheekily and she blushes an adorable shade of pink.

  “Thanks for the cake, Ems.”

  She nods and I go to sit in my usual spot, at the back of the café in the corner. I sit down at the table with a brown and white checked tablecloth with my large cup of coffee. I open the tin foil package to reveal a huge chunk of chocolate cake with a fuck ton of buttercream and icing. Emmy, you know me well! I catch her staring at me and mouth the words ‘Thank you’ at her.

  I am sipping my coffee and munching my chocolate cake with gusto, when I hear the bell chiming, signalling the arrival of another customer. I look up into the cold, vacant, dull, sludgy green eyes of Kev Adams. Emmy observes my exchange with him with cautious eyes. You’re right to be cautious, sweetheart, I wouldn’t trust this fucker as far as I could throw him.

  “Can I get another coffee, please, darlin’? Black, no sugar.” I ask Emmy to set her at ease, and she nods politely.

  “I’ll bring it over,” she says with a vigilant, wary edge to her voice, and I smile to reassure her.

  I gesture for Kev to take a seat opposite me. He pulls the chair out with a noisy scrape, and the sound sets my teeth on edge. He sits down, and it takes him a few seconds of fidgeting to make himself comfortable.

  “Brody, it’s been a while, man, good to see you.”

  He reaches across the table and shakes my hand. His palm is clammy, and I instantly feel repulsed, as if I need to wash my hands. Fucking slimy bastard.

  “You too, Kev.”

  Emmy, placing Kev’s coffee down on the table, interrupts us momentarily.

  “Cheers, babe, I’ll settle up on the way out.”

  I wink and she shakes her head, with a small smile.

  “I’ve got this, Brody,” she says sweetly and flashes me a cheeky wink as Kev observes our friendly exchange with curious eyes. Keep your eyes to yourself, fucker.

  “What have I told you, Ems? You’re too kind for your own good sometimes.”

  Girls like Emmy need to be taught that life isn’t all unicorns and fucking rainbows. She needs to learn the valuable lesson, that if you give some people an inch, they will take a mile.

  I have known Emmy Woods since she was seven years old, she is like the little sister I never had, and I feel oddly protective towards her. A part of me feels responsible for her in some way and she knows I always leave her a substantial tip, to make sure she has a couple of extra quid for her, her mum, Mandie, who is the owner of the café and a close friend of mine, and her little brother Malakai, who has autism. She scurries off back to the counter and while her back is turned, Kev reaches across the table, in a swift movement, to give me what I came here to collect. I slide a roll of notes in exchange and tuck it inside the pocket of my leather jacket. I nod curtly, as Kev guzzles down his coffee in one mouthful. He puts the cup back on the table and nods in return.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Brody, as always. You even remembered how I take my coffee after all this time, I’m impressed.”

  He smiles his rodent-like smile and we both stand up at the same time. We shake hands and he turns to leave. I pick up my coffee, drain the rest of what is in my cup and wrap up the remainder of my cake, storing it in my pocket. I tuck one hundred pounds underneath my cup and make my way back to the counter, with my hands in my pockets.

  “Thanks for the coffee and the cake, Ems. I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you really soon, I promise. If you ever want to go to one of our gigs, let me know, I’ll sort you out and put your name on the V.I.P list, call it a late birthday present.”

  Her face lights up, as I say those words and she kisses me on the cheek excitedly.

  “Thank you so much, Brody! I’d love that!”

  I beam at her. “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

  I wink and turn to leave. The thought dominating my mind, as I make the twenty-minute journey back home is total fucking oblivion.

  ***

  I push the bathroom door open and lock it behind me, to make sure I am not disturbed. That’s the last thing I fucking need. I lift the toilet tank cover and take out a small, black, worn leather toiletry bag that I keep for emergencies. I unzip it; take out an old credit card and a fifty-pound note. The essentials for a seasoned addict and every rich junkie knows that anything less than a fifty is a waste. I put the toilet lid down and pull the clear bag with white powder inside from my pocket. I make two neat little lines with the credit card. I hold one nostril closed; my mouth starts to water. I roll up the note, put one end up my nostril and I slide it across the line, snorting until the delicious white powder is up my nose. I immediately repeat with the other line and sniff hard. Jesus, there is nothing like the feeling of euphoria, as the coke starts to work its way through my system. The buzz lights me up like a fucking Christmas tree, it makes me feel like I can take on the fucking world. As the numbness begins to set in, I relish the momentary silence. My mind is clear for the first time in months, and I feel so happy, I could fucking burst! I start laughing hysterically to myself, as I make three more neat lines and then three more, quickly hoovering them up my nose with the note. I feel myself floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, I finally reach the oblivion I so desperately craved.

  2

  Brody

  I remember coming to on the bathroom floor, the memory vivid, sharp, and clear as day. The concerned faces of the people around me, began coming into focus, and the m
uffled sound of soft female sobs. At that moment, all I could think of was taking another fucking line, then another, and another. I didn’t give a shit if I died; I didn’t love myself enough to care. No one would miss me; I would become another number, another fucking statistic, another in the long line of dead junkies. Familiar voices registered in my foggy brain, the whispered word ‘rehab’, amongst the idle chit-chat. I vaguely remember muttering something incoherent, as I allowed the darkness to seep into my veins once more.

  ***

  My eyes struggle to process the all too bright room and for a brief, fleeting moment, panic settles in my gut like a lead weight. Where the fuck am I?

  “Hello? Hello, is there anyone there? What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Hello?”

  I notice the quiver in my voice, as I yell, and an ice-cold fear I have never felt before descends through my entire being. My senses are on high alert, as I try desperately to listen out for an indication to where I am. I hear the ‘click, click’ of heels across the floor and register a presence. I look up into the concerned chestnut eyes of Jamie-Leigh Chase.

  Jamie-Leigh is Jax’s mum, she, Sam’s mum Lori and Lucas’ Aunt Ava, took me under their wings after my mum died. I was a rebellious, scared, lonely ten-year-old, who had lost the only person who ever loved him. I have always had a soft spot for Jamie-Leigh, or Jay as she likes to be called. We have always had a great relationship; she was always my favourite out of the three matriarchs that took care of me. She is the mum I wished I had had growing up. Jay is also a doctor, and she used to work long hours when Jax and his sisters, Shay and Skye, were kids. As her kids have gotten older, she gave up working at the hospital and opened her own state-of-the-art, private healthcare practice called ‘Chase Medical.’

  Jay has always had a lot of time for me. She is on the level, and she is the kindest person I know, with zero judgement.

  “Hey, you, good to have you back with us.”

  She smiles softly and genuinely. I suddenly feel like I am that scared, nervous ten-year-old all over again.

  “What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, sweetheart?” she asks with a sigh, and I smile mischievously.

  “You know me, Jay, can’t go anywhere without causing trouble.”

  I shrug as she moves further into the room and perches herself on the edge of the bed. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a neat bun on top of her head, which makes her look younger than her fifty-four years.

  “Where am I, Jay?”

  She leans in to kiss me on the forehead and takes her stethoscope from around her neck.

  “I received a call from Mr Richmonde, pretentious twat that he is, asking if he could bring you here, rather than admitting you to hospital. He didn’t want the press finding out. Apparently, the bands reputation means more to him, than your health. Fucking prick,” she says with more than a hint of bitterness to her voice, and I smile at her tenacity.

  “How did I get here? What did I do?”

  The underlying fear in my voice is obvious, as she avoids looking me in the eye. “You overdosed and Sam found you unconscious in your bathroom, darlin’.”

  My eyes widen at her matter-of-fact admission. Fuck my life.

  “You stopped breathing and Sam administered C.P.R.”

  I put my head in my hands, humiliated and more than a little ashamed that my best friend found me unconscious, after everything he’s been through. Fucking hell, it just gets worse.

  “Why do you insist on doing this to yourself? Make me understand.”

  She reaches for my hand and I let her, its times like these I really resent my mum. She should be here; she should be the one holding my hand.

  “Because it’s the only fucking thing that makes me feel, Jay.”

  A melancholic sadness to my voice and she reaches up to stroke my face softly.

  “You’re loved, Brody, and you’re part of a family, whether you care to admit it or not, Those boys’ bloody worship you, my Jackson included.”

  I shake my head, squeezing the back of my neck. I wish I could believe her.

  “It’s not just about that, not this time.”

  My voice is barely a whisper as she cocks her perfectly plucked eyebrow and throws me a knowing look.

  “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Brody.”

  She smirks cheekily, and I laugh. Typical Jay, this woman knows me so well.

  “There’s nothing that gets past you, is there?” I quip sarcastically, and she winks. The distinctive shade of her wide, expressive eyes remind me so much of Jax.

  “Call it female intuition, sweetheart.” She squeezes my hand. “Let’s start with her name then, shall we?”

  I shift my gaze, feeling almost embarrassed. Is it that obvious? Fuck.

  “Only a woman would get you this twisted up, darlin’.”

  I sigh and my heart slams against my ribcage when I think of her.

  “You love her, don’t you?” Jay says abruptly, and I nod, squeezing my eyes shut briefly, willing myself not to burst into tears like a big fucking girl.

  “More than anything and I need her more than my next fix, Jay. The problem is, she doesn’t belong to me, she belongs to someone else,” I admit with a hint of shame to my voice. She raises her eyebrows and I frown.

  “Don’t fucking judge me, we didn’t plan it, it just kind of…happened.” I puff out my cheeks and she sighs.

  “Oh, sweetheart, come here.” She holds her arms open, and I crawl right into them, desperately craving a hug. She holds me close to her and strokes my head, soothing me. “It’s going to be alright, darlin’, I promise. You might not think it now, but it will be.”

  At this moment, I am not sure I believe her.

  ***

  I am not sure how much time passes, but I wake up to hear a commotion outside the slightly open door and I instantly recognise Sam's loud, distinctly angry, gravelly voice.

  "WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?" he bellows. Sam is somewhat protective over the people he cares about; some might say a tad overprotective. His temper is almost as famous as his distinctive style and his voice. I've witnessed first-hand the destructive aftermath of his many temper tantrums over the years. They aren't pretty but seem to go hand in hand with his recently diagnosed bipolar disorder, after his most recent episode, which he manages with medication and intense daily exercise.

  "HART!" he shouts, shaking off Cole and Jax, as if they were annoying bugs.

  He steps menacingly into the room, his nostrils are flaring, his stance loose, as if he’s about to strike at any given moment. He has his fists clenched tightly at his sides and his knuckles are white. Oh fuck, this isn't going to be pleasant. He moves further into the room and it takes Cole, Lucas and Jax to physically drag him away from me.

  “Look, dude, I’m sorry, alright?” I say apologetically, hoping to placate him, and he shakes his head, jabbing his finger angrily in my direction.

  “You can shove your fucking sorry up your motherfucking arse! Don’t you think we’ve lost enough fucking people?” He spits angrily as I hang my head in absolute fucking shame. He’s right, we lost nine people that day and I’ll remember that clearly for as long as I live.

  “I’ll go to rehab, I’ll sort myself out this time, I’ll get clean, and I’ll stay clean, I promise,” I whisper sincerely, feeling such shame and regret. I can’t fucking bear the way they’re all looking at me.

  “You say that every single time, Brody! It’s like an endless cycle, you O.D, you get admitted to hospital, you get your stomach pumped, and you promise you’ll get clean. You go to rehab, get clean, come out, go to a few meetings, and repeat the same fucking thing all over again! How many times, man! You’re a typical pathetic, weak fucking junkie! I gave you CPR for fucks sake! You’ve crossed the line this time!” he barks, running his hands frantically through his hair as he anxiously paces the room.

  I have the sense to balk at his chastisement. In the background, I hear M.J, speaking in a clipped, business-like tone,
as he steps into the room, larger than life. He swipes the screen of his phone, greeting Jay and I, with a curt nod and a cool smile.

  “Ah, good to have you back with us, Hart,” he says, with a genuine look of empathy on his face, but Jay can’t seem to hide her disdain for him.