Snared(55)

“It’s our turn,” he said.

I turned away from April, but she gripped my arm. “Beau.”

“I’m okay.” I brushed my lips against hers. “Thank you. I needed you.”

April nodded, smiling down at Robbie. As we walked away, I heard her whisper, “I need you, too, Beau.”



We pulled into the group home and stepped out of the car. Robbie led us into the house. We’d spent almost the entire afternoon there, riding go-karts over and over, playing mini golf, and playing video games until we’d had enough tickets for Robbie to get an enormous stuffed dog he’d had his eye on since we’d walked in. I’d never seen a kid look more thankful in my life than when we handed him that huge dog. Then again, who knew what kinds of presents he’d ever gotten. He’d clutched onto that thing the whole ride home. Every time I would glance at him, he was gazing out the window, the picture he held in his other hand.

We’d eaten more junk food than I ever wanted to see again. He’d had a blast. By the end, he’d been talking in full sentences not just to me, but to April as well. It might’ve had something to do with the affection she and I had shown each other, but she seemed to think he felt safe.

I had no idea why he felt safe with me, but the kid was something else. He wasn’t the angry, threatening child he came across as to everyone else. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was in pain and didn’t know what to do about that. He’d never had any stability or someone who loved him the way he should’ve been loved.

Like me. I could’ve been describing me. I’d thought, as a small child, that my life was perfect. My daddy had taught me to play drums and loved me; I had a big sister who was bossy but my best friend, and my mommy read me stories and kissed me goodnight.

The day that his life ended had been the end of my childhood as I knew it.

“I’m going to put this in my room,” Robbie said. “Will you stay for a minute?” He looked back and forth between both of us.

April nodded. “Of course. We’ll be out here.”

We watched as Robbie disappeared. “Beau.” I could tell her throat was thick with unshed tears by the way she spoke. “Today was amazing. Thank you for thinking of doing this with him. I think it made all the difference in the world. Robbie—there’s hope for him.”

“Yes, there is. You have to get him out of here, April. He needs a real family. Someone who will love him.”

One tear slid down her cheek, but she wiped it away before I could get to it. “I’m trying, Beau. I am. I want that for him so badly. He has to show that he wants it, too.”

I nodded, knowing that was true but also knowing that Robbie was terrified and wouldn’t open up to just anyone.

Robbie flew into the room, silencing us both. When he still saw us there, he stopped, a smile playing on his lips. The way he’d run in here, it was like he didn’t believe we’d still be there even after we said we would. Trust. His trust had been so broken in adults he didn’t believe we’d still be here.

“Beau.” Robbie appeared in front of me.

“Yes?” I crouched down so I looked straight into his eyes. I noticed he had taken his jacket off.

“Will you come with me for a second? I want to show you something.”

April beamed, nodding her head at me in approval. I knew this was huge. Whatever he wanted to show me I’d be grateful for because I knew it was difficult for him to do this.

“Of course.” I stood up and held out my hand. “Show me.”

Robbie glanced back at April, but we both knew what the look meant. You stay here. She took the hint and waved to us just as Trent walked up next to her. He watched wide-eyed as Robbie pulled me into the room he shared with many other boys.

“This is my bed.” Robbie climbed onto a bottom bunk. “Tristan sleeps up there because he’s ten and I’m only nine, so he says he’s the boss.” He rolled his eyes like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard and I stifled a laugh.

I settled on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to continue. “I can’t sleep at night,” he said. “I miss her.”

I sucked in a breath at his admission. I wasn’t cut out for this . . . type of talking. I had nothing to say that could make him feel better, so I said nothing.

“I don’t know why I do. She wasn’t a good mom. I mean . . . I think she loved me, but how do I know?”

“Robbie, do you want to get out of here?” I indicated around us.

“Yes.” His lip wobbled and fear sliced through my gut. If he cried, what the hell would I do? “I hate it here.”