Defend Me: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Novel (Free Book 3), стр. 79
To Marlow’s credit, she didn’t even flinch, though I was certain those words had to hurt.
“I’m choosing this family,” I said with a need to defend them. The Dixons were the best. She was a fool to have thrown them away.
She leered at me. “You come from a long line of drunks. If it weren’t for your great-grandfather’s money, you’d all be destitute by now.”
I wouldn’t take up for the people who’d raised me. They didn’t deserve it.
“You’re insane,” Andrew said.
His mother looked at him as if she felt sorry for him. “No, darling. Every one of you was desperate for me.” She snorted. “It was pathetic, really.” Somehow she seemed pleased despite her words.
“Guess we inherited that trait from you,” Holt said sardonically.
“My sister stole what belonged to me. It was only fair I return the favor when I knew it would have the most impact.”
“If you didn’t love Dad or want this family, why bother having the three of us?” Marlow challenged.
Ivette gave her a look as if she were daft. “To make my sister jealous.”
“None of them knew about us,” Andrew said.
“Terra and her brother didn’t. My sister and Oliver were quite surprised when I showed up pregnant with Holt.”
“You knew all along he wasn’t my father,” Holt said. I felt for the guy being dragged through hell like that.
She smiled. “But they didn’t.”
What a sinister woman. She was certifiable.
“You used us. We served your purpose. Why come back? You never answered me.” Marlow stood taller, and I put a hand of support on her shoulder.
“I suffered for years with all the shrieking and the diapers and school when I should’ve been somewhere else. Do you have any idea what it’s like for your heart to be in one place and be stuck where you don’t belong?”
Ouch. Marlow’s face crumpled. She knew exactly what that was like as well as anyone in this group.
Duke muscled his way into the group. Where did he come from? He was massive, yet had such stealth.
He held up his phone. “Did you know Shirley Trout was admitted to Bryce Hospital in Alabama when she was seventeen?”
I squinted at him. “Who’s Shirley Trout?”
“Keep scrolling.” He shoved the phone in my face.
Ivette swiped at me. “She doesn’t exist.”
Duke smirked. “Oh yeah, she does. Spent six months in that nut house. Was used as a lab rat in early studies of narcissism.”
Ivette’s face turned scarlet. “She. Does. Not. Exist.”
Duke remained calm. Actually, he looked like he was having fun. “Maybe not on paper anymore. Ivette Hamilton emerged in her place. In Cape Elizabeth, Maine.”
“My parents should’ve given me a more glamorous name,” she said bitterly. “I have to do everything myself.” And then she snapped her mouth shut as if realizing what she’d admitted.
I couldn’t read the words on the screen fast enough. There was a photo of a much younger Ivette—or Shirley?—but there was no mistaking they were one in the same person. According to the dossier, Ivette’s family moved to Maine as soon as she was discharged. They all had a new last name . . . Hamilton. Hamilton?
“Was your mother’s name Marilyn?” I asked as dusty light bulbs in my head began to go off.
Ivette lifted her chin. “You remember.”
“She was our housekeeper.”
All the Dixon’s looked at me . . . stunned.
“You fired her,” Ivette shrieked.
I put a hand to my mouth, trying to recall events from almost thirty years ago. “She was caught stealing.”
“It was just a little food,” Ivette said, voice growing progressively louder.
I tried to think. My mother might have disowned me, but she wasn’t completely heartless. If Marilyn had been only stealing food, she would’ve found a way to discreetly give the woman groceries. No . . . it was something—“She stole my mother’s necklace.”
“There was no proof,” Ivette said insistently, touching her neck.
“Marilyn was the only one who’d been in the room when it disappeared.”
“You never gave her a chance to explain,” she exploded and then composed herself. “So you all needed to learn a lesson.”
She set me up. Framed me for rape. For what? To punish my family for a perceived wrong?
I thrust Duke’s phone back at him. I’d seen enough. “You destroyed my life. Over a necklace.”
Ivette had that cool, collected way about her. “Hardly justice. We needed her income. She couldn’t get a job.”
“She shouldn’t have stolen,” I said.
“You still haven’t learned,” she replied darkly. “None of you have.”
That was where she was completely wrong. We’d all figured out that, with each other, we were better. Our family was the greatest thing we could ever have.
Duke grinned. “Ah, Doctor Stevenson. So glad you could make it.”
Another surprise? Why had my private investigator had a doctor come here?
The doctor nodded at Duke but focused on Ivette. “Ms. Hamilton, I’ve reviewed the file from the DHS complaint you recently pursued against your daughter and found some discrepancies in your story. Given your history of mental illness, we’re concerned for the child. I’m going to need you to come with me to discuss this.”
She looked down her nose at the man. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’ll answer any and every question he has.” Officer Timothy Wilson stood behind the doctor, imposing and forbidding.
“You have my statement,” she said defiantly.
“And we’d like to further discuss it with you. It won’t take long,” the doctor said patiently.
Her eyes turned lethal when she glared at me “You did this.”
I shrugged. I wished I could take credit.
“This way, Ms. Hamilton.” The doctor motioned toward the building behind us.
She hiked her purse on her shoulder and for a moment, I thought she’d run. But Timothy Wilson was an intimidating figure. She stalked off with the two of them behind her.
“How do I do it?” Duke asked with a smirk.
“I was thinking the same thing,” I replied.
“That was buried deep, but the facts are always there if you keep digging.” He focused on Marlow.