Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

twenty-two

BEAU

With Emma busy this weekend, devoting herself entirely to Gemma's bachelorette festivities, I decided to go for a drive. A long one. With one hand on the wheel and the other stuck out the window, I hum to myself, trying out a couple of new verses I'm putting together for Zach, and try to calm my restlessness.

Zoey called. The investigator that she contacted last week, using funds I provided, of course, reached out with some possible information on our son. Because she's now swamped taking care of her and Beck's, I'm left to do the driving this time around.

Squinting out the windshield, I pull into a shitty complex with old, run-down apartments adorned with faded numbers, nearly impossible to see. By my second lap through the parking lot full of used vehicles in varying states of damage, I find Zoey and Beck's apartment.

I almost ring the bell before remembering Zoey asked me not to. It'll wake the baby. I feel the frown on my face as I raise my hand and tap hard against the door.

When Zoey answers just a moment later, the sound of high pitched wailing accompanies her through the door way, assaulting my ears like no live show ever has. In her arms is a pink, wriggly, shrieking machine, the smell of soiled diaper permeating my air supply as Zoey nods me inside.

"Beau, hi. Come in, come in," She steps aside, dark circles under her eyes the only real indication of her probable exhaustion.

Grimacing at the incessant screams of the baby, I nod towards the tiny human.

"So that's my nephew, huh?" I shift from foot to foot, discretely scanning the apartment. Dingier than even my own, the place is dark and unorganized, baby toys and blankets littering almost every available surface.

"Mhm, this is Jack." Zoey shifts, using one arm to hold the child and the other to clear some space on the sofa for us to sit down.

My body tenses involuntarily. "Jack?"

"Mhm," Zoey looks up at me then, understanding in her wide eyes. "Beck didn't think you'd mind, since you know..."

"I don't." I answer immediately, bile rising in my throat. Setting myself down uncomfortably on the couch, careful not to touch too much, I shake my head. "Just surprised Beck decided to use his name, is all."

Naming his son after the man that ruined our childhoods seems stupid, but who am I to judge? Beck was treated better than I was, but still, I'd think he'd want to steer clear of all things our father when raising his own kid.

"Yeah, well..." The baby finally settles and Zoey gently places him in a contraption on the floor by our feet, pressing a button that sets forth a calming, rocking motion. "Maybe you could talk to him about that."

"Not likely." I sigh, tired of the small talk already. "What does he think about all this anyways?"

"All this?" Zoey tips her head to the side, tiredly blinking at me in confusion.

I raise my brows at her. "Finding our kid?"

What fucking else?

"Oh," she runs a hand over her face. "Sorry. I'm so tired - I just... Okay. Mental reset," She pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers, taking a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, she smiles brightly at me. "Wow. I'm back. I haven't told him about it."