With that, Natalie left the room quickly, Bex right on her heels. I followed until we reached the kitchen when Natalie abruptly stopped and turned back to us.
“What is it?” I couldn’t wait one more second for them to tell me what was going on.
“Robbie is Beau’s son,” Natalie said. I sucked in a breath at her words. He was what? “I can’t believe it.”
They could’ve grown three heads, and I would’ve been less shocked. “What?”
Natalie nodded. “That picture of Robbie and his mom, that woman was Beau’s one and only . . . girlfriend. He looks just like him. I can’t believe I never realized this before now.”
“How the . . . ?” My mind reeled with what she had said. Robbie was Beau’s son? How in the world had that happened? Well, I mean, I knew how it happened but . . .
Oh, my God, that’s what Robyn was doing here. She came here to find Beau, to tell him about Robbie. But why had she been here, in Orlando, instead of his hometown? Had she come here because she knew where the band was playing and she thought she’d drop the bomb on him then? That didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.
“This was definitely what sent him into a tailspin,” Natalie said. Bex nodded. My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn’t quite form any intelligible words.
“He was adamant, ever since we were kids, that he wasn’t ever going to be a father,” Natalie explained.
“W-why?”
“Because of our family history with mental illness. He never wanted a child to have to deal with what he has had to deal with. I tried to talk him out of it for years, but he did it anyway.”
“Talk him out of what?” I had no idea what they were talking about. She and Bex exchanged another look. “What? Tell me!”
“He got a vasectomy years ago,” Natalie said.
My head throbbed, and I reached up and rubbed my temples. “He did what?”
“Let him tell you that.” Natalie reached for my hand. “I just wanted you to understand how mind blowing this is for him to find out. That’s how serious he was about not having children. So today, to find out that this little boy who’s had a rough childhood like him is his child, that Robyn kept it from him all these years . . .”
“Plus Robbie told him he had trouble controlling himself,” I added.
Bex nodded, wiping tears from under her eyes. “He’s wrecked.”
“This is why he tried to end it,” I said. “He couldn’t deal with this.”
Natalie sighed. “He’s going to need a lot of support to come around to this.” She stopped, trying but failing to keep the emotion from leaking from her eyes. “That’s our flesh and blood in there.” Natalie pointed to the bedrooms. “I can’t leave him here. He’s my nephew.”
Bex wrapped her arms around Natalie and I followed. We stood in the kitchen, sobbing on each other’s shoulders.
“I want custody of him,” Natalie said. “I’ll take care of him until Beau can. He can’t stay in foster care anymore.”
“I’ll get an emergency hearing as soon as I can.” I stepped back and wiped my eyes. “We’ll need to do blood tests to confirm Beau is his father.”
“I can’t believe this day.” Bex shook her head. “Is this the smartest thing to do right now? When Beau gets out, he’s going to need stability and understanding. Is having Robbie what’s best?”
Natalie’s eyes flashed. “I cannot leave that boy here in this group home, where he feels no connection to anyone. Like it or not, Robbie is part of this family now. Beau will handle it because we will all help him.”
Johnny and Tanner stepped into the kitchen, and we filled them in on what we had learned.
“We’ll take him if you can’t,” Johnny said to Natalie. “Just make it happen, April. Get him out of this house and into the hands of his family. Beau and Robbie need us equally now.”
Beau
I BLINKED OPEN my eyes, my head pounding as the light hit my pupils. Where the hell was I, and what had happened to make my head pound? My throat was so dry. I licked my cracked lips, wondering how long I’d been sleeping.
I turned my head, taking in the stark white walls and the absence of much of anything else. A nondescript television sat flat against the wall, and flimsy drapes barely contained the sunshine pouring through the window. I lifted my arms to rub where my head pounded when I realized I couldn’t move. My eyes snapped to my wrists, bound to the side of the bed. One of them was in a fucking cast. A cast? How the hell was I supposed to drum with a cast on my motherfucking hand? I tried to lift my feet and found the same problem. I was held down by restraints. What the fuck?