Robert and Carla are on the deck, the remnants of a serving tray, a jug, and several glasses spread on the concrete.
“Carla, are you okay?” Robert rubs her back.
Carla doesn’t respond, her eyes on me with a mix of horror and disbelief. “Tyler?”
So she does remember at least one thing about me. I’d laugh in her face if my heart didn’t wrench because I might lose Hattie.
45
HATTIE
“Mom, what’s wrong?” I rush out of the pool, water sluicing down my body, but she pays me no mind, her entire focus on Bast.
I glance in his direction and see that he’s staring at her too, rage etched into every line of his face.
“Tyler?” my mom asks again, her tone more urgent, more demanding.
My vision shifts to my dad, wanting him to explain why she’s calling Bastion Tyler and what happened at the doctor’s appointment, but all the color has drained from his face as he looks between my mom and Bast.
“What’s going on? Who’s Tyler?” Panic flares like a living, breathing being inside me, suffocating me. When no one answers me, I tug on Bast’s arm. “What’s going on?”
He doesn’t turn to me, not removing his eyes from my mom. “Why don’t you ask Mother Dearest?”
I turn imploring eyes in my mom’s direction. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” It’s obvious I’m the only one who doesn’t have a clue what’s happening here and who Tyler is.
Bast’s back straightens, and he slides his arm out of my grip, crossing his arms and widening his stance as if he’s preparing for a fight. “Carla is my mother.”
His voice doesn’t waver or shake. It’s cool and smooth and devoid of emotion. This isn’t the Bast I know.
I understand each of the four words that came out of Bast’s mouth, but they make no sense the way they were strung together. My mom is Bast’s mom? How is that even possible?
My head whips in my mom’s direction. “I don’t understand.”
Tears slip down her face, and she does nothing to wipe them away, her eyes still on Bast.
“Carla,” my dad says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “maybe we go inside to talk. Or I’ll take Hattie…”
She shakes her head. “Before I met your father, I had a child. Tyler.” She sobs at his name before taking a few breaths to compose herself. “He ran away, and I never saw him again. Until right now.”
I turn to look at Bast, and his eyes are locked with my mom’s. “Is that true?”
He finally turns his gaze from my mom to me, giving me a single nod.
Oh my god. My mom is his mom. The drug-addicted horrible mom who neglected him as a child? My hands fly up, covering my mouth as tears prick the corners of my eyes.
Wait. Then the thought occurs to me. How he wasn’t surprised when Mom said his name.
Has Bast known this whole time?
I tug at his arm. “Did you… did you know already?” My voice is a whisper.
Regret fills his eyes, and he doesn’t have to answer. He did. My heart cracks.
“I hired a private investigator to track down what happened to Carla,” he says. “I figured she’d be long dead of her addiction, but it turns out she wasn’t. In fact, she had a pretty cushy life after I was gone. She even replaced me with another child.”
My stomach bottoms out, and the tightness in my chest causes me to struggle for a breath.
“No, Tyler, I?—”
