Page 25

“So, you’ll be teaching her how to beat the boys off with a stick then?”

I smiled, even though that small voice in the back of my head still warned me to stop talking to Neil,get off the phone, don’t let him in like this.

“I do take my role as the favorite aunt very seriously,” I said.

Neil chuckled—a low, deep sound that slid through my body like molten lava.

This was supposed to be us,I wanted to say.We were supposed to be in that hospital room, welcoming our newborn into the world. I wanted this with you, Neil. Not anyone else. And I hate that after all these years, you’re still the only one I want to raise a family with, when all you can think about is your damn club.

“It must be hard,” Neil said. “Being away from your family. You were always close with your sister. Your mother was a different story.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I countered. “Screwing around with you didn’t help either.”

As much as I hated to admit it, my mother and I had been two sides of the same coin. We had sharp tongues and scathing attitudes to match. Connie inherited our father’s mild manners and gentle, nurturing demeanor. He died of a heart attack on a construction job when we were teenagers, and the hole he left in our lives only soured my mother’s attitude even worse.

When I fell in love with Neil, she warned me to stay away from him.

That biker will break your heart, Harriet. Mark my words. Don’t come crying to me when you need someone to pick up the pieces. You’ll find no sympathy on my doorstep.

I was so hellbent on proving her wrong, clinging to Neil even tighter. I loved him, damn it. Why couldn’t she see that?

When I filed for divorce, I fully expected my mother would rub it in my face. Instead, she said nothing. Her silence was worse—so much worse—than any insult she could have flung my way.

“Does that stubborn old crone still hate my guts?” Neil asked.

I glanced down at the hospital floor.

“She didn't hate your guts, Neil.”

He snorted.

“Don’t sugarcoat the truth now, Hattie. You never bothered to before.”

I sighed and leaned back in my chair.

“Fine. Yes, she hated your guts. You were nearly ten years older than me, covered in tattoos, and you barely passed your GED. But that’s not why Mom hated you.”

“Really? Sounds like she had a laundry list of grudges built up already. What else was she holding against me?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. The truth was that my mother hated Neil precisely because I loved him. She never loved my father that way. Her marriage had been lukewarm at best, and her prickly demeanor only continued to keep her husband at arm’s length.

Her blood curdled over the fact that I was utterly enthralled with Neil after we met, willing to throw away everything I’d worked for because of a biker. He loved me so deeply, so fiercely, but my mother couldn’t be happy for me. Instead, she frothed at the mouth with jealousy.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said.

“No, don’t go easy on me. Let’s hear it.”

I hesitated, brushing an invisible speck of dirt off my jeans.

“She’s gone. Mom passed in her sleep a few years ago, right after Wylie was born.”

“Shit, Hattie,” Neil replied with chagrin. “I’m—I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. You should have called me. I could have helped with the funeral.”

That’s exactly why I didn’t tell him. Mom’s death would leave me vulnerable. I knew that if I saw Neil after burying my last surviving parent, I would stumble into his arms all over again.

I shook my head, scrubbing a hand over my face as I squared my shoulders.

“Because we’re divorced. I’m not your problem now.”