“But I can wait this out.”
“Then please go wait somewhere else.” I gesture for her to leave my property.
“Why can’t you leave my daughter alone?” she yells in frustration. “What do you want with her? I don’t trust you. You’re lying to her and pretending to be in love, and you’re going to break her heart.”
“You know what, lady, get the hell out of my face. Have this conversation with your other daughter because Eden is just fine. Good thing that other person you birthed has no heart, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Her head rolls back. “What do you know about my family? About relationships or my other daughter?”
“I could get into it with you, but I don’t give a damn about her or you, so get the hell out of here,” I yell back.
“You’re right. You know nothing about family. You’re just trying to slither into mine. Is that it? You want respectability, so you think you can be a part of us.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh at her inane words. I’ve been alone since my mother died, and I’ve always been fine with that. There’s never been a single time when I tried to insert myself where I wasn’t wanted. Meeting and falling for Eden was the last thing I expected, but unfortunately, she’s related to this judgmental woman.
“Respectable? Is that the word you’re using?” I ask with a dismissive snort. I inch closer to her, intending to crowd her, but she stands tall. “Listen and listen good. I want nothing to do with you or your family, but you’re going to watch while I take your daughter.”
“It will be a cold day in hell before you take my child from me,” she hisses. “You don’t care about her.”
I laugh at that.
“You’re reaching. If there’s one thing I do right in this world, it’s love your daughter.”
“You’re disgusting,” she says, purposely missing my point. “You can’t say those words, and that’s telling. She said she loves you, and you said, ‘Me too.’” She lowers her voice and says the last part as if she’s speaking in baby talk. She gestures at me. “I don’t have to worry about you. This will blow over soon enough.”
“Bullshit,” I scoff. “I think you’re bluffing. I think you are worried about me, or you wouldn’t be here. I’m not going anywhere. Not out of Shadow Cove, and not out of Eden’s life. Get used to it.”
Having had enough of her, I get on my bike, but she stomps her feet in my direction and kicks my tires, then she spits on the ground.
I walk toward her. She stands tall until I reach backward and pull the Glock out of the holster. Her eyes widen. She shrieks like a hen, raises both hands, and walks away backwards.
I raise the Glock and point it at her. She visibly trembles, and I give her a smug grin before I aim my gun behind her and shoot the tires on the passenger side of her car. While she continues to shriek, I go around her and shoot the other two before securing the gun back in the holster.
She finally shuts up and stands there, stunned.
“I’m not playing this game with you. There will be no other rounds.” Her eyes widen, and I lower my voice. “Next time, you’re sitting around thinking about your family and how protective you are of them, do me a favor. Call Tim Copeland and ask him how he’s doing.”
She inhales, and if there were any bugs around, she would have sucked one into her mouth.
“Remember him?” I whisper. I take a few slow, threatening steps toward her. “The guy you hooked up with in college when you were supposed to be faithful to Randall.” I use the same baby voice she used on me moments ago.
She’s gone deathly still and quiet now. A youthful indiscretion should be no big deal, especially when it involves people so young. Other than a few laughs behind the sheriff’s back, I didn’t think much of it, but Mrs. Rose has shown what a judgmental hypocrite she can be.
“It didn’t end there, though. Years ago, you two had a weekend together when the good sheriff was fishing.”
She gasps at that. She opens her mouth, and I wait to hear her denial, but no words come out.
I give her a smile that never reaches my eyes. “Tim Copeland. The only man who could make you come with just his hands.” I recite the words written in the therapist’s notes. “Your grandson’s name is Tim. How, Mrs. Rose, did you convince your daughter to name your grandson after your lover?”
She makes a noise as if she’s searching for air. Leaning down, she puts both hands on her knees while she hyperventilates.
“What was that?” I put my hand close to my ear. “No words? Good. Swallow your judgment, and choke on your hypocrisy. And when I think about you and your family, other than Eden, the last word that comes to mind is respectable.”
I leave her frozen and speechless. I can feel the blood coursing through my veins. I grind my teeth as I angrily hoist myself on the bike and start the engine.
She finally gets her wits about her and runs to me, but I’m already in motion. She stops in front of my bike, and for a fraction of a moment, I consider running her over.
“Wait!” she screams when I go around her. “What are you going to do with that information?”
