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“That’s what I’ve had to live with, Sophie. Never knowing. People reminding me that I’ll never know. And the Bishops never once acknowledging that I might be their brother.”
This was what had been bothering him his whole life? This was what it was all about? Sophie moved slowly toward him. She uncrossed her arms. And then she pushed him. Hard.
David stumbled back and almost caught himself, but then his calves hit the ottoman and he went down. “Goddamn it, Sophie!”
“You’re an idiot, David. Do you hear me? An idiot. You have a father. You have his eyes and his long legs and weird thumbs and his ears. He’s your dad.”
He clambered up, his cheeks mottled with red. “I’m not sure and neither is anyone else.”
She wanted to feel bad for his doubts, she wanted to comfort him, but so much anger boiled up inside her that she felt faint from it. He had no idea. None at all.
“You have a father, David. You have a dad right here! Do you know who doesn’t have a father? Alex Bishop. And Shane Harcourt. And me.”
He rolled his eyes again, and despite the fact that she knew violence was wrong and knew she shouldn’t have pushed him, she wanted to shove him back down again and slap him. Slap him over and over.
“He’s your dad,” she repeated. “He’s not my dad. Do you get that? I’d do anything for him to be my real dad, and you’re listening to idiot gossip when anyone can look at you two together and see the truth.”
He shrugged. “You’ve always been closer to him than I was.”
They glared at each other, but before she could explain what an idiot he was being again, someone cleared his throat from the kitchen. Sophie turned and gasped at the sight of their dad standing there. Her stomach dropped.
He ran a handkerchief over the back of his neck and looked at David. “If you want a DNA test, we’ll get one.”
“Dad!” Sophie gasped. “No. You don’t have to do that.”
“That’s up to David,” her dad said. “Not you. If it’ll make him feel better, then we’ll do it.” He sounded so matter-of-fact. As if he hadn’t just heard his two children disclaim him as their father.
“Oh, God, Daddy. He doesn’t really think that. He’s just letting gossip get under his skin, that’s all. David, tell him you don’t mean that.”
David didn’t say anything. He just raised his chin like a stubborn child.
Their dad nodded. “If we take this test, are you going to stop all this nonsense?”
“It’s not nonsense,” David insisted.
Sophie had rarely seen her dad angry. He was more given to silence when something upset him, but this time his eyes narrowed and his jaw went hard as steel. “It is nonsense,” he barked. “It’s disrespectful and sneaky and nasty, and I didn’t raise you to act this way. You don’t disrespect the dead. Not with lawsuits or nasty lies or childish tantrums.”
“They have no right to—”
“You’ve humiliated your sister and embarrassed yourself. And if you think I enjoy listening to people talk about what my wife was doing with another man twenty-five years ago, then you apparently don’t know me too well, either.”
Sophie pressed a hand to her mouth and even David seemed to suddenly realize how much he was hurting his father. His chin dipped down, dropping the arrogant outrage.
“Now...” Her dad took a breath and let it slowly out. “We’ll take the test, and then I never want to hear another word about Wyatt Bishop.”
“Fine.”
“And you’ll drop the lawsuit.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Her father’s gaze was cool and hard, and David had no moral ground to stand on. He finally shrugged one shoulder and looked away. “I’ll consider dropping the lawsuit.”
“You’ll do it or you’ll get the hell out of my house.”
“Dad!” he yelped, like a little dog who’d been kicked. “Where would I go?”
“No idea. But the lawsuit is wrong and I won’t be any part of it. If you want to be your own man, then I suggest you get to it.” He turned and left before David could argue further.
Sophie heard the back door close and then the sound of his truck starting. She should stop him. Say something. But she didn’t know what to say.
