Page 84 of His to Cherish

Right as she asked the question, a shrill scream echoed through the door.

For fuck’s sake. At midnight, you’d think the woman would have some damn patience.

Chelsea’s blue eyes snapped to mine, widened with understanding, and I scrubbed my hands through my hair. My eyes darted from hers to the hallway that led to the stairs and the front door.

“Seriously, Chelsea, don’t fuck with me right now. Just stay here.”

Her face went pale and she stepped away from me.

I immediately turned and left the room, barely hearing her whispered, “Okay,” as I slammed the door behind me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, scowling as soon as I opened the door.

Like every time I saw Mandy, she was dressed like she was ready to hit the clubs, or dig her fingers into deep pockets. Dressed to the nines in jeans and some sort of flowy shirt thing, she was still beautiful.

Unfortunately, her beauty was only skin deep.

I stood in the doorway, not allowing her entrance. She batted her eyelashes at me and smiled coyly, as if the flirtatious bullshit still worked on me like it had when we were fifteen. “Hi, honey. How are you?”

Honey?

I resisted the urge to slam the door in her face. “What do you want, Mandy?”

“I want to see Derrick, of course.” She held up two large gift bags draped on her wrists. “I missed his birthday.”

Fuck. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be pissed at her even though I wanted to scream at her. Seeing those bags, the hope in her eyes. She was a shitty mom. The worst. Even when my own parents divorced when I was kid and my mom took off, she’d still made an effort for a while. Eventually I’d stopped hearing from her and I’d stopped making the effort, too, but she’d donesomethingwhen I was a kid. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in ten years, but I couldn’t hate her as much as I hated the woman in front of me.

“It’s late,” I said, and opened the door, letting her in. “He’s not here.”

I didn’t want to do this. Didn’t know how to do this. How did I tell her the kid she never cared about has died? And what would I do when she acted like she didn’t care?

“Where is he?” she asked, impatient as always. The world revolved around Mandy and her desires and she never changed.

“Not here,” I repeated.

She pushed past me and dumped the bags on the entryway floor, inserting herself farther inside my house while she looked around. Her eyes narrowed on Chelsea’s pink purse on the side table and then snapped to me.

“You have company? Did I come at a bad time?”

That gleam in her eye was wicked, full of destruction. God, who knew someone so pretty could be such a selfish bitch?

I ignored her question and stepped toward the stairs. I wanted distance before I slapped her or before she took off running to my room in search of the woman she now knew was in my bed.

“Like I said, Mandy. Derrick’s gone.” The word fell from my mouth like sludge. Tasted worse and burned as I swallowed. Fuck. I hadn’t had to explain it to anyone yet. What was I supposed to say?

Just get it out. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, and she’ll be gone.

I opened my mouth to tell her everything, to tell her about Derrick’s accident, when I felt Chelsea’s presence at the top of the stairs. I hid my flinch as I saw Mandy’s eyes snap toward the movement I knew she must have seen.

Like every time I was around Chelsea, I felt her before I saw her. Knew her comfort was close by. This time, it would be my job to protect her. Protect her from Mandy and her vile bullshit. If she knew Chelsea was important to me, I’d never get rid of her. She’d never leave town. She’d become worse than a vulture and try to restake the claim on me she’d severed years ago.

And she’d be a bitch about it. She’d make Chelsea’s life hell. I didn’t want that. Couldn’t have that.

Mandy’s eyes narrowed on me. “Well, when is Derrick coming home? I have presents for him.”

Pain seared my chest, “He isn’t.” I exhaled roughly and ran a hand down my face while I searched for firm footing. “Mandy—”

“Who’s this?” Like always, she was more concerned about her competition in a race that didn’t exist than her kid. Typical.

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