“Don’t apologize to her.”
“I will and so will you.”
Sophie’s whisper broke through his building anger. “No. I’ll go inside. It’s fine. Just...”
“It’s not fine,” he insisted. His mom’s insanity was spilling out all over her neighbors now. “She can’t try to pull innocent people into her deranged world.”
“Innocent?” his mother scoffed. “Oh, my God. Innocent?” She barked out a laugh as Alex stepped forward, herding her toward the street. He was sick of this shit. He’d been sick of it his whole life.
“Let’s go,” he ordered.
She shook off the hand he put on her elbow. “She’s not innocent. She’s just like her mother!”
“For God’s sake, if you think I give a damn about your neighborhood gossip, you’re even crazier than I thought.” When she froze, Alex got a grip on her arm.
Her crazed gaze tore free from Sophie and rose to him. Her mouth gaped. “You don’t know,” she breathed.
“No, I don’t, and I don’t care to.”
“Ha!” She shot a grim smile at Sophie. “You’re even more devious than I thought.”
“Mrs. Bishop...” Sophie said, but then seemed at a loss for how to address the manic senior citizen in her yard.
“She’s Dorothy Heyer’s daughter,” his mom said, the words thrown out with the same tone one would declare a man guilty of murder. She’s a murderer. She’s a child abuser. She’s the daughter of...
Whoa.
His mom pointed at Sophie. “Don’t you recognize her? She looks just like her slut of a mother.”
Alex shook his head in shock. Sophie was the daughter of Dorothy Heyer. His dad’s mistress. The woman who’d disappeared with him twenty-five years ago.
Shit.
But he kept his mouth shut and his surprise to himself and tightened his hold on his mom’s elbow. “I don’t give a damn who her mother is, and who I talk to is none of your business. Let’s go.”
This time when he tugged her toward the street, his mom actually came along with him.
He glanced back toward Sophie to find her watching them, but her gaze fell before he could think what to say. The situation was way too fucked up for any kind of intelligent response, so he just led his mother down the sidewalk to her house.
“You think you can manage not to embarrass yourself for a few more feet?” he growled. When she nodded, he let her go and stalked toward her house. Shane stood in the doorway, looking nearly as unhappy as Alex felt.
“Where the hell were you last night?” Shane asked.
“Somewhere sane,” Alex snapped back. “I came for the dedication, not to be on the planning committee. By the way, Mom just called one of her neighbors a whore.”
Shane winced. “Who? Sophie?”
Alex was apparently the only one not in on this joke. “Yes, Sophie. You know who she is?”
“Sure. Everyone knows. I mean...most people don’t care, but you know how it is here. Small town. Long memories.”
“Yeah. I’m sure it doesn’t help anything that the woman down the street treats Sophie like crap.”
His mom brushed past him and Shane. “She should know better than to show her face around me.”
He followed her inside, his surprise and outrage hardening into true anger. “Are you kidding me? She was standing in her own yard! And she seems like a perfectly nice woman.”
“Ha. Until you find out who she really is.”
Alex couldn’t believe this. “This can’t be all about her mother. Sophie was a kid when that happened. Even younger than Shane and I were. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“She’s the one who moved onto my street and threw the past in my face like the hussy she is. Do you know how much it hurts to see her every day? With that red hair just like her mama? And now she’s putting the moves on my son? No, sir. I won’t stand for it.”
“Putting the moves on me? Are you kidding me? We were having a conversation in her garden.”
“You can’t fool me. I saw the way you were looking at her. She’s just like her mother and apparently you’re no different than your father!”
Alex laughed instead of yelling what he really wanted to yell. “Am I supposed to be sorry about that? You’re the one who made him into a saint.”
“He was a saint compared to that home wrecker who lured him away!”
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