Snared (Jaded Regret #1) (25 page)

“Yes.” He grabbed his dog again and squeezed it.

“Don’t worry, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. Hey—do you like to draw?” I asked.

“I love to draw.”

“I’m going to have Trent give you some paper and crayons. Will you make get well cards for Beau? I know it’ll make him feel much better.”

Natalie had her head turned, tears streaming down her face. Bex typed furiously on her phone; I assumed to Johnny in the other room. They knew whatever it was, and I needed to know. Right. Now.

“Sure, April.”

“We will see you tomorrow.” Natalie ruffled Robbie’s hair. “Hey—is your first name Robbie or is that a nickname?”

“My name is Robbie. Robbie Oliver Jensen.”

A small noise came from Natalie again, but she masked it with a cough. “That’s a great name. Thanks for talking to us. You’ve helped a lot.”

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?

You’re a fucking monster, just like him
, the voices screamed in my head.
This is what you deserve. To be locked up like the animal you are. What did you think, that you were going to have a psycho’s blood running through you and not become just like him? You deserve to die. I hate you. I can’t even stand looking at you.

My chest heaved, and I pulled at the restraints. Hell no, I wasn’t being locked up like some fucking animal again. Flashes of me standing in the middle of the road popped into my memory. What the . . . ? What had I done? All of a sudden, I saw water rushing toward me and screams from behind me. April’s face filled my mind, and I groaned. What was the last thing I remembered? Riding go-karts with April . . . and Robbie. I furrowed my brow. Something was nagging me, a memory that wouldn’t quite come to the surface. Was it about April or Robbie?

Holy fucking shit. How long had I been here? Where was everyone? I’d done something wrong, which is what got me into the psych ward of the hospital. I fought to remember, but only little bits and pieces came to me. I needed someone to give me answers, and right fucking now.

I jerked at the restraints, wincing at the pain my body was in. When I couldn’t get free, I began shouting. Someone needed to tell me what I was doing here.

Before long, the door swung open, and a doctor and nurse came in. “Finally,” I complained.

The doctor walked up to the side of my bed, making notes on a chart.

“What am I doing here?”

The nurse and the doctor exchanged a knowing glance. “Why don’t you tell me what you remember.”

I hated this fucking game. It was a shrink’s way of getting you to talk. “Stop the shit and tell me. How long have I been here?”

He flipped the chart closed. “You were brought in yesterday.”

“What? I’ve been out of it for a whole day? What the hell? What happened to my hand? Can you take these damn restraints off me?”

“Sorry, Beau, we can’t take them off yet. Now that you’re awake, though, we can start your therapy sessions.”

“Therapy? I’ll see my shrink at home. I need to get the hell out of here. My sister will be wondering where I am.” Natalie. She would be sick with worry.

“Your sister is here. She’s in the waiting room.”

“What? Am I at home?”

“You’re in Orlando,” the nurse answered. “Your sister has been here since right after they brought you in.”

“What happened?” My anger dissipated. I was terrified of hearing the answer, but I needed to know.

“We’ll let your sister know you’re awake, but you won’t be able to see her yet.”

“Why not?”

“I’m Dr. Viola, and I’m the attending psychiatrist. I and my colleague, Dr. Grant, will be conducting your therapy while you’re in our inpatient program. Once we feel you are stable enough to see your sister and your girlfriend, we will let you know.”

Stable enough? I wasn’t stable? Well, no shit. That must be why I was bound to my bed. My girlfriend. My
girlfriend
? April was here? I closed my eyes. Oh, God. What had I done in front of her? What did she know? And after what she must know now, why was she still here?

“My girlfriend is here?”

Dr. Viola nodded. “She came in with you, from what I know.”

“Fuck.”

“I’ll be back.” He turned and walked out the door.

For the second time in my life, I had been committed to a mental institution. This time, though, I didn’t remember what had gotten me here. I closed my eyes, searching my muddled brain for any information I could remember. Embarrassment flamed as I realized what Dr. Viola had said.
April
had been with me when I’d come in.

My mind started the video reel of what I remembered. April and I were making love and deciding to try a relationship together. I came to Orlando to spend time with her and Robbie. At the thought of him, a nagging started in the back of my head again. Something had to do with him, but it wouldn’t come to me. We’d taken him to ride go karts. It had been my first time, and it had been more fun than I could’ve ever imagined, being there with him and April.

We’d taken him back to the group home after that. She’d been so happy; her face had been radiant. I remembered admiring her beautiful skin as she drove, wondering how the hell I’d gotten so lucky to have a woman like April interested in me.

Nothing else would come. “Goddammit!” I shouted to the empty room. I wasn’t allowed to see my sister, and they wouldn’t fill in the blanks for me. I slammed my head into the pillow, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes. A memory of my head hitting water caused me to still, waiting to see if more would come.

When nothing came, I closed my eyes, hating myself.
You’re a monster, Beau Oliver.

“If I remove these, you have to promise to be cooperative.” Dr. Viola hesitated at my restraints.

“I will,” I said. It must’ve been hours since the last time I’d woken up because it was dark outside. What the hell kind of shit did they have me on that would make me sleep like that?

Dr. Viola studied me for a second and then removed the restraints first from my feet, then moved up to my hands. I sat up and stretched, feeling much better already. A nurse stood silently at the foot of my bed, watching.

“Your sister bought you clothes if you’d rather change out of that.” I glanced down at the white shirt and pants and groaned. Yeah. I seemed like the textbook case of crazy.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Dr. Viola handed me a pair of jeans and a Henley. “Go to the bathroom and leave the door open. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I can’t even take a piss alone?”

He shook his head at me. “No. Not yet.”

What the hell did he think I was going to do in there? I sighed, not caring enough to argue, and went into the adjoining restroom. I changed, leaving my jeans unbuttoned since it was impossible to do the simplest things with a broken right hand, and I sure as hell wasn’t asking the doctor to button them. I splashed water on my face, which was also difficult to do with one hand. I sighed.
This fucking sucks
. Why had I been such a moron to break my hand? Lifting my gaze to the mirror, I noticed I had bruising on my face, and my short beard had grown out. I needed to trim that up before l looked like a lumberjack.

“Can I get a razor?” I poked my head out of the bathroom to see Dr. Viola standing there watching me.

“No, sorry. You can have it once you are discharged.”

What? I couldn’t have a damn razor to shave? What the hell was their issue?

All of a sudden, it hit me like a ton of bricks. My eyes widened as my reflection came into view in the small mirror over the sink. Fucking hell. I’d tried to kill myself. I knew it just like I knew my name was Beau Anderson. I couldn’t remember how or why, but I knew it with every fiber of my being.