Looking for Trouble

“Okay,” he said. “I think I know what you’re going to say.”

“I don’t think you do.”

He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll talk. Go out with me, or invite me in, or I’ll take you for a ride. I’ll let you choose.”

That snapped her eyes up to his. “Oh, you’ll let me?”

He laughed. “Definitely. Whatever you want. You want things, don’t you?”

She shrugged and slipped off her gardening gloves. “You’re handsome when you smile,” she grumbled.

“But not when I don’t?”

“No. Handsome isn’t the word I’d use then.”

He tipped his head a little closer as if she were revealing a secret. “What word would you use?”

He’d expected a flip answer, but she seemed to take his question seriously. Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him, and a dozen heartbeats passed before she answered. “I’d say you’re...”

During her pause, he watched closely, studying her eyes, waiting for her answer. But it never came.

“Get away from her!” a woman yelled from a distance.

A strangled gasp tore from Sophie’s throat as she straightened and took two steps away from Alex. He was a little slower, checking idly over his shoulder to see what neighborhood drama was going down. An old woman was storming up the street. It took him several seconds to realize that old woman was his mom. He still wasn’t used to the change in her.

“Alex!” she screamed.

Jesus. Alex shook his head. “Whatever’s about to go down, I apologize for it.”

“Alex, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you. I swear.”

“Tell me what?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he looked away from his charging mother to see Sophie twisting her hands together, her face tight with something like fear. “Hey. Don’t let her scare you. She’s just—”

“You get away from that whore!”

“Hey!” Alex barked, swinging toward his mother as she stormed across the lawn. “Watch your mouth.”

“I should say the same to you,” she sneered, skidding to a stop only a few feet away. Her slippers were damp and muddy around the edges. “Watch your mouth and every other part of yourself around her.”

“Jesus.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sophie.”

His mom snorted. “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.”