BooksBarbecue
Back Legacy of Lies Save as PDF
Chapters (88)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. PART ONE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. PART TWO
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. PART THREE
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. PART FOUR
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. 73
  82. 74
  83. 75
  84. 76
  85. 77
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  88. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

T. J. nodded, but again the teenager’s lip began to quiver, and he bit down on it. “I’m worried about you, Dad. What are you gonna do?”

Bo forced a smile and then rose from the stool and gripped his son in a fierce hug. “I’ll be fine.”

When they pulled away from each other, T. J. didn’t seem convinced. “What are you gonna do?” he repeated.

Bo ignored the question. “Give your sister a kiss from me, and I’ll see you both next weekend, all right?”

T. J. started to protest, but Bo grabbed his arms and gave them a shake. “OK?”

Finally, T. J. nodded. “OK.” He started to walk away and then looked back at Bo, who remained standing. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, son,” Bo said, feeling an ache deep in his chest as he watched his boy leave the bar.

Bo plopped down on the stool. Exhaustion and depression began to consume him. He turned to the glass of Jack Daniel’s and this time brought it to his lips, turning it back until the ice cubes collided with his teeth. The whiskey scalded his throat going down and burned his stomach.

And then Bocephus Haynes felt a wave of heat rush over him that had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d just consumed. Hate for himself, which he’d been able to quell during the custody trial, returned with a vengeance.

It’s all my fault, he thought. Jazz’s death. Losing the kids. Everything.

“Another, sir?” the bartender asked, removing the empty glass.

Bo glared up at him and nodded. What are you gonna do? T. J. had asked. Bo watched as another glass of Jack Daniel’s over ice was placed in front of him.

“I’m going to get drunk,” he whispered.

14

14

At 8:00 p.m., Bo stumbled up the stairs of the Voo Doo Lounge and out onto the sidewalk. For early April, the night felt humid and sticky, which typically meant that rain was on the horizon. Bo had parked his car a couple of blocks east of the courthouse and began to trudge that way. As he passed by a restaurant called Commerce Kitchen, he glanced inside the big glass window and saw Judge Lucas Woodruff eating dinner with a distinguished-looking silver-haired woman who Bo assumed was His Honor’s wife. For a moment, Bo stopped and stared at the man who just hours earlier had decided that Bo wasn’t fit to be his children’s custodial parent. He wanted to go inside and tell His Honor what he really felt about him, but that would only bring him more problems.

As a cool mist began to fall, Bo took a step closer to the glass and remembered the judge’s last words to him: I wish you luck, sir. I hope you use the next six months to turn your life around.