Page 37

“We know, and quite simply, we don’t give a fuck,” Grim said. He grabbed the creamer from the fridge, turned, and looked toward Bettina taking a long drink of the creamer. It was sweet, and it was delicious. Before she put some plastic wrap over the top, she would get a spoon and taste it. It was always so delicious. “See, delicious, and something this good, you do not deny yourself.”

“I’m going to go and get a room,” Bettina said. “Martha, come and show me which one I can use for my stay here.”

“You’re staying?” Betty asked, and she realized how rude that made her, but she also felt a little panic building within her.

Her mother was staying. That just ... no, there was no freaking way. Was there any way she could stop her? No, it was her mother, and Bettina Jackson had a tendency to do what she wanted, when she wanted. There was no stopping her. She hated this, but she forced a smile to her lips.

“Yes, I’ll be staying for an indefinite period.”

She was gone before Betty could ask any more questions. She quickly turned back to look toward Grim.

“Your mother’s a bitch,” he said.

She couldn’t argue with him. She felt the same way.

Chapter Eleven

Bettina Jackson was a first-class bitch. There were more colorful words he could use to describe Betty’s mother, but he didn’t think she’d like to hear them.

She was a nasty piece of work. Every time he was near her, she complained about food, calories, and fat. Most of the time, this was directed toward Betty, which pissed him off, because he absolutely loved Betty’s curves. They were more than a generous handful, and he craved getting his hands on her.

Bettina complained about the way Martha looked, and hinted that she should get some plastic surgery, a facelift, some tucking and nipping. This pissed him off, because even a hard-ass like Martha was starting to look worn down. She attempted to flirt with him, and he shot her down. He didn’t like the mother. He didn’t like evil bitches.

“You look pissed off,” Doc said, coming out of his office, looking way too happy.

Grim was at the clubhouse, enjoying a cup of coffee, without creamer, because he had to get out of that fucking house, and this explained why Betty was the way she was. Her mother chipped away at her, and it wasn’t even subtle digs. It was nonstop. There was always some fault or another. He was trying to be nice, but there had been more than five occasions in the past three days when he wanted to explode.

As it happened, today, Betty was spending the morning wrapping up some of her filming, and he’d tried to sit with her, but she always got a little distracted by him. It was cute. But he also wanted her to take Thanksgiving as well as leading up to the weekend, so he had no choice but to come back to the clubhouse. Perhaps he should have stolen the creamer from her fridge, as well as a batch of the cookies she’d baked yesterday.

Even the cookies got a hit from Bettina, and not even for a good reason. She found some reason to complain about them, and it pissed him the fuck off.

“I hate parents. Did I ever tell you that?” Grim asked.

Doc just looked at him. “Is this all parents in general?”

“No, the asshole kind. The kind that don’t know when to shut the fuck up and are nasty for the sake of being nasty.”

“Is this about Betty’s mother being in town?”

“You know about that?”

“Yes,” Doc said.

Grim sat back. “Why?”

“Simple, I like to know everyone that is in town, or out of it, and the sheriff reported it to me. I think he was being sarcastic, however, it is suspicious, don’t you think?”

Grim was starting to feel a lot better. “How is it suspicious?” he asked.

“Bettina Jackson hasn’t set foot in Rivermont Ridge since she left here as a kid,” Doc said. “Even when Betty was being brought here to spend time with Martha, there was never an appearance by Bettina.”

“How do you know this?” Grim asked.

“I listen to gossip, and also, Maeve happened to tell me as a couple of the locals stopped by Kristin’s salon, and that was the topic of the day. Maeve said she didn’t know the ins and outs of it herself, but it did sound suspicious.”

“You’re right, that does sound a little suspicious.” He pursed his lips. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

“It’s probably nothing.”