The Vincent Boys 01 - The Vincent Boys

eyes at me as if I were being overdramatic.
    “What’d ya come here to do, Ashton? Scold me? Accuse me? Judge me? Go ahead. It ain’t as if I’m not real use to that. But make sure you stop by your old boyfriend’s house and give the same dressing down to Beau’s daddy while you’re at it. ’Cause, baby girl, it takes two to tango.”
    “I’m not here to judge you or any of those other things. I’m here because I’m worried about Beau. I wish you’d have told me. I would’ve gone looking for him.”
    “Wasn’t my story to tell now, was it? Once I told them boys it became their story. When they wanted someone to know they’d make the decision to tell ’em. Not me. Besides, what’s running off looking for someone who don’t want to be found gonna do, huh? Not a bit uh good.”
    I walked over and sat down in the empty stool beside her. Honey had known all along Beau wasn’t hiding from his problems. He wasn’t running away. He was coping with a life-changing bomb that had been dropped on him.
    “Why’d you let me think he was running from me? From Sawyer?” I asked, watching her face for any sign of remorse.
    “’Cause it was better that way. You ain’t never gonna be nothing but a wall standing between those boys and right now they need each other. More than ever. I might not be an ideal parent but I love my boy. I know he needs his brother. You’re sweet and honest. I like you. I really do. You’re nothing like I assumed. But you ain’t good for them boys. They need you out of their life so they can move on and find a way to deal with this.”
    She was right. I would always be the one thing standing between them ever mending their fences. I loved Beau. I loved him enough to let him go.
    “You’re right,” I replied.
    Honey reached over and patted my arm affectionately. “You’re a good girl with a really big heart. Your mama raised you right. I’m thankful Beau had your love. It makes me feel good inside to know someone like you could love him. Thank you.”
    I stood up and wrapped my arms around Honey’s shoulders. She stiffened then relaxed and her arms slowly came around me. I wondered how long it had been since someone had hugged her. I squeezed her one good time before letting go.
    “Thank you for putting up with me this week,” I said through my tear-clogged throat. Her hazel eyes were misty as she gave me a sad smile.
    “I enjoyed the company.”
    Before I became a blubbering mess I gave her a small wave and turned to head to the door.
    “He’s back in town,” she said. “Just so you know. I gave him your letters.”
    I squeezed the brass door knob and stared at the old wooden door. I had to let him go. Asking where he was and how long he’d been back would only hurt worse. With every ounce of will power in my body, I turned the knob and pushed the door open. It was time I went home.
    The knock on my bedroom door was immediately followed by, “Ashton, sweetheart, are you in there?” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was after eight o’clock. Dad was just getting home, which was unusual.
    “Yes,” I replied. He opened the door and stepped inside my room. The frown lines on his face looked as if he’d spent a stressful evening somewhere.
    “You okay?” I asked, remembering the last time one of my parents had come to my room upset.
    “Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” he replied and took a seat in the purple chair facing my bed. This was apparently going to be a long conversation. He never sat down in here.
    “Okay,” I prompted. His strange behavior was making me nervous.
    “You and Sawyer broke up.” He said it as a statement not a question. So I just nodded in confirmation.
    “Have you spoken with him lately about anything? Maybe something going on in his family?”
    How did my dad know? Unless . . .
    “Yes. Today as a matter of fact,” I replied, waiting to see what his next question would be.
    Dad cleared his throat and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What did he tell you?”
    I understood the frown lines and coming home late meant Dad had been counseling tonight.
    “He told me something about Beau.” I wasn’t going to tell Dad Beau’s secret if I was wrong and Dad hadn’t just spent an hour with Sawyer and his parents.
    “He told you who Beau’s father is?”
    I nodded slowly, unwilling to say more.
    Dad let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair.
    “Sawyer and his mother