"I don't need any of your smart mouth. What the hell is this article?"

"What are you talking about?" Jesse asked, his voice dangerous.

Derek waved the folded newspaper. "The front page of the sports section."

Tension raced through Jesse's body fast and quick. For long seconds, he didn't move. It was Kate who

reached for the Tribune.

Jesse was frozen on the spot, his face a mask of stone.

As the two brothers glared at each other, she unfolded the section and was immediately hit by the

headline.

It's Hell Being a Hero Or so it would seem for El Paso's prodigal son Jesse Chapman By Tommy Davis

Jesse glanced over her shoulder and saw it, too. With a jerk, he turned away, bracing his hands against the counter.

"Jesse?" she started to say.

"Read it to him, Kate," the older Chapman said. "He needs to hear what is being said about him."

Not knowing what else to do, she began to read. "Rumor has it that Jesse Chapman hasn't been able to play since he saved a woman's life." She glanced at his back. "Tommy Davis is that reporter we saw that day on the golf course, isn't it?"

"The one and only," he said coldly.

She went on. "Is he really a hero, or is he still the bad boy of golf who took to the wild life like a duck takes to water? My guess is that if Jesse wasn't such a pretty boy, there wouldn't be a sports person

around who would have heard of him. Will he change that this August at the PGA Championships'

Does he have the talent worthy of the attention he's given?

"But more than that, is Jesse Chapman really a hero-or just a wolf in shining armor? Because this

reporter has learned that the only reason the woman collapsed that day on the Westchester driving range was because she was hit with a golf club. Did Jesse hit her, then save her in turn? Hard to know, because no one is talking, including Jesse Chapman. What is our local bad boy hiding?"

The article went on, detailing Jesse's life for the last decade. The minor tournaments won. The press coverage gained.

Shock rippled through Kate. When she glanced up, Jesse had turned around, facing her.

"Is it true?" she asked. "Did you hit that woman?"

"Did you, Jesse?" Derek demanded.

Jesse's jaw cemented.

Derek closed his eyes as if praying for patience. "What the hell have you done that a guy like Tommy Davis would question whether the reports about you being a hero are true or not?"

Kate watched that shift in Jesse that she had seen before. On the set of Getting Real, on the golf course

in front of Tommy Davis. And now.

Suddenly the smiles returned. "I'm no hero, big brother," Jesse said with his bad boy smile. "You of all people should know that. Haven't you made that clear to me for years?"

Derek's eyes narrowed, only then the patience evaporating. "Damn it, Jesse. What pushes you to do

these things? Drinking at age eleven-"

Jesse held up his hand in an exaggerated attempt to be helpful. "You've got it out of order. First smoking, then drinking."

Kate watched the exchange with growing horror.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget, Jesse. Just like I didn't forget the present Dad gave you when you turned thirteen. A whore and a birthday fuck. Was she good? Did you enjoy it?"

Kate felt like she had been punched.

"You and Dad," Derek continued, "with your drinking and your women."

Kate couldn't believe what she was hearing, and she also could feel that Jesse was losing his tight grip on his bad boy smile. He was about to break.

"You're a broken record, Derek. Let me make it easier. Drinking, whoring, irresponsibly fathering a son.

What else?"

Dark eyes glared into dark eyes, inches apart. Then something caught Derek's attention. He glanced over to the kitchen floor and saw the ripped panties. After a second, he glanced between Jesse and Kate.

"What else, you ask? How long have you been screwing Kate?"

Instantly, Jesse had his brother pinned against the wall. "I've never done anything to hurt her."

"Yeah, right. You keep forgetting the day of my wedding. Screwing her in your bedroom. And don't you

know all of El Paso is talking about her being your newest plaything while you conveniently stay in her guest cottage? Looks to me like that's just what's been going on."

Jesse slammed him against the wall again, knocking Derek's breath out with a guttural gasp.

"Jesse! Stop!" Kate raced forward, breaking into that dark place where Jesse had gone. After a second, he jerked away, Derek bending over to catch his breath.

She had never seen any man look so ravaged as Jesse did then. With a growl of pain, he banged out of

the cottage, into the rain, and was gone.

She wanted to follow, but didn't. She turned to Derek, staring at him as she tried to understand.

"Regardless of what you believe, I threw myself at Jesse the day of your wedding-and Jesse told me no."

Derek straightened, confusion slowly giving way to a reluctant knowledge, a single frown line of guilt marring his features. "Maybe I'm wrong about that, but not about the other things. Jesse has been wild and irresponsible for as long as I can remember."

She looked at this tall, strong man, so like his younger brother in looks, but lacking a flare for life and laughter that had come to Jesse so easily. Her voice was soft when she spoke. "I think you're jealous that your father has always paid more attention to Jesse than to you."

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't give a damn if Jesse had his attention."

"Didn't you?"

"My father and Jesse had plenty in common. Let the two of them be wild and ruin their lives. I wanted

no part of it."

She bit her lip as she considered his words. "Is it possible for a grown man to have 'plenty in common'

with a child? Or does the adult teach a boy the ways of a man?"

She saw Derek's eyes flicker, and just then something occurred to her. "You were, what, nineteen when Jesse was eleven? Wouldn't you have made a better drinking buddy? Why did your father turn to Jesse instead of you?"

He shrugged with a nonchalance that Kate could tell he didn't feel. But he didn't respond.

"Did he ever ask you to go drinking?" she persisted.

"Yes! And I said no. But Jesse didn't."

His burst of anger made her head jerk back, and she blinked in surprise. "Derek, why are you so angry?

Don't you see?" she said with kind insistence. "You want points for saying no at nineteen, and condemn Jesse for not turning him down at eleven. You, an adult, versus Jesse, a boy?"

Derek's thunderous gaze wavered.

"I don't know what really went on in that house of yours," she added, glancing out the window as she remembered the past, "but I do know that on the night of his thirteenth birthday, he came to me, fighting back tears, and he wouldn't let me touch him. He never let me touch him again."

As if he had been hit, Derek took a step back, and this time his face darkened with something other than