Chapter 8

For long moments, they just stared at each other, Richie distractedly noticing how Billie’s eyes were almost the exact shade of his own. He took a hesitant half-step forward, and the movement broke the thrall which held Billie silent and still. She sprang to her feet, hoping against hope that she could bluff her way out of this. Hoping he didn’t actually know anything more than the name of Jay’s mother. Praying in a way she’d never prayed before.

“You’re Richie Sambora.” She blurted, playing the awed fan. “Oh my God! I knew you were one of the owners of Jay’s team, but I never expected - never imagined…..I’m sorry, I’m just a really, really big fan of yours, and……..”

“…….and the mother of my first child?” Came Jon’s still-familiar voice from the doorway, flat and cold in a way even Richie had rarely heard. “Hello Billie.”

“Shit.” She mumbled, her worst fear realised, forcing herself to look over at the blue eyes she still remembered so clearly.

Richie looked at her, then at Jon, then nodded once. He had enough sense - and knew Jon well enough - to know when to get the hell out of Dodge, and this was most definitely one of those times.

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” He murmured, heading for the door, and Jon just nodded and stepped aside, his gaze fixed balefully on Billie.

Sensibly, Richie closed the door as he left, pretty sure that the pair in the room didn’t need half the nursing staff hearing what was likely to be said there. If nothing else, he was damned certain that Jon didn’t need them hearing it - and repeating it - before he’d had the chance to explain to his wife. It was never going to be an easy explanation, but Jon would be fucked going in if Dot had already heard it through the media.

“Jon.” Billie murmured, stepping slightly away from the bed, her eyes fixed on his.

“Billie.” His voice was still cold, but in spite of his intention to keep himself in check, the anger won through. “How the fuck could you do it?!”

“Do what?” She replied, stalling for time, knowing exactly what he meant.

“How could you keep him from me?” Jon spat. “How could you have my son and keep him from me for nineteen fucking years? He’s my flesh and blood, and I never knew he existed!”

“I guess the same way you conveniently forgot you were married when you were fucking me!” Billie snapped back, getting angry now at his attitude. Dammit, for all this time she’d been trying to protect him, to avoid causing any unnecessary difficulty in his life - his very married life - and now he throws it back in her face like some kind of insult.

“That was different!” Jon’s voice was rising angrily, and Billie’s eyes hardened as she stepped closer.

“Keep your voice down!” She turned to look at Jay, seeing him still asleep. “If you can’t keep your voice down, then get the fuck out of my son’s room!”

“Your……..!?” Jon’s eyes turned icy, and he grabbed her arm, propelling her toward the private bathroom, shoving her inside and closing the door before he spoke again, his voice a little more controlled but still deadly. “Your son? Our fucking son, Billie!”

She moved toward the bathroom door, but Jon simply shifted to the side, leaning on the door, blocking her in.

“You’re not going anywhere until you explain this.” He said flatly, and Billie gaped at him.

“Until I explain?” She repeated.

“Yeah. If nothing else, you owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t owe you a damned thing, Mr Bon Jovi!”

“Is that what you were after?” He sneered. “A rockstar’s kid so you could get your claws in?”

“A……” Billie snarled her next words, wondering if he realised how stupid he sounded. “If that’s what I wanted, why the hell would I keep it a secret? Huh? If I wanted to ‘get my claws in’, why would I raise my son alone? Without asking a damned thing of you?”

“I…..” Jon hesitated, the logic of her words finally breaking through his anger. “I…… Well, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped…..”

Billie could see the initial anger slowly fading, the more rational Jon coming through again, but unfortunately for him her own irritation wasn’t dissipating so quickly.

“Why didn’t I tell you? Uh, gee, lemme think…….. Oh, yeah! Because I didn’t know who you were?! Because I thought you were just a nice guy who passed through my life for a week or so, and happened to leave me pregnant? Because I had no clue that the sweet guy I’d taken into my home, into my life, was actually a rockstar? Yeah, maybe that. Maybe the fact that I only found out who you were when I was seven months pregnant with your child, lying alone in bed watching the Oscars, and imagine my surprise when the camera panned around to show ‘Jon Bon Jovi, rockstar’ sitting in the crowd.”

“You could’ve come to me then.” Jon muttered, and Billie raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, y’think? Just somehow find my fat, pregnant way from Kansas to New Jersey? Somehow find out where you lived, and come knocking on the door to say hi to your wife? Hi, Dorothea, nice to meet you, no, you don’t know me but I fucked your husband for a week about seven months ago, and, well, surprise surprise! How d’you think that would’ve gone down, then?”

“So you decided to lie to me instead?”

“No. I decided that the chances of you ever finding out were so slim that it wasn’t worth worrying about.” Billie said honestly. “Sure, I’ve been a fan of the band since I found out - it was the only way I could get to hear your voice - and I knew there was hardly a chance of you guys playing anywhere around me, so it was safe. Only one person - other than me - ever knew who Jay’s father was.”

“Who?” Jon had to ask, the question was burning the back of his brain. “Your husband?”

“No. Carrie. You remember her?”

“Carrie……from the vet hospital?” Jon frowned as he tried to remember.

“Yes. And I never married, in case you were fishing.” Billie said softly.

Jon scratched a hand through his hair, moving away from the door as he started to pace the tiny room, needing to move so he could think. Billie backed away from him, into the corner of the room, and it was moments later that Jon actually looked at her, seeing the fear in her face, wondering what his own expression was if it had brought that kind of reaction. What Billie was seeing as she watched the man she’d followed - at a distance - for all these years, the man who’d fathered her child, was something cold and harsh, a bleak look on his face as he tried to process the information overload she’d given him.

Looking at her, seeing the fear, Jon consciously relaxed himself, trying to force back the ice he knew was in his eyes. He saw Billie relax fractionally, too, then something else occurred to him, and he halted in his pacing, looking at her in confusion.

“So, okay, I guess I kinda understand what you were doing.” He said grudgingly. “Not saying I agree with it, because I don’t - dammit, Billie, I could’ve helped! - but why did you let him come play for the Soul? You had to know I’d meet him - you said you follow the band, so you had to know I’m the majority owner of the team.”

“I did.” She said softly. “But I didn’t know if you spent much time with the players. Besides - he wanted to try out for the team - he was trying out for a few - and what was I supposed to say? Sorry, Jay, but I don’t want you trying out for the Philadelphia Soul, because you just might meet your father? You might meet the man I’ve never told you about? How was I supposed to explain that to my son?”

“Dammit! Our son!” Jon growled, the anger resurfacing for a moment.

“My son.” Billie corrected him swiftly. “He’s my son, Jon, and that’s how it stays.”

“No.” Jon’s voice was cold again. Cold and definite. “He’s my son, dammit, and I won’t hide that. I’ll explain it to Dorothea first, but I will acknowledge him as my son, Billie.”

“And I’ll deny it!” She shot back at him, but Jon shook his head firmly.

“In that case, I’ll push for a paternity test, Billie. I know you have money - I remember that - but I’m pretty sure I have a shitload more of it than you do, which means I can buy all the attorneys I need to. Whether you like it or not, Jay’s going to know who his father is.”