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Grim’s Last Chance

Page 21

by Sam Crescent

“I don’t know. I think for the longest time, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I know this is going to sound a little crazy, but I didn’t want to upset my mom. Everything I did, or was interested in, disappointed her. She spoke for a long time about being a model, and there was no way I wanted to do something like that. I think, the fact I didn’t want to do that also upset her.” She shrugged. “I know, it makes no sense, but that is exactly what happened.”

“You’re an amazing cook,” he said.

“Thank you. That means a lot, it really does. Whenever I came to visit Aunt Martha, it was so natural to me to just go into the kitchen. It wasn’t hard work. Coming up with new recipes can be hard. I love it, actually.” It made her smile. “I like feeding people. I guess I always wanted to be ... I know this is going to sound so old-fashioned, but I love the thought of being a full-time mother. Taking care of the home, cooking and baking, keeping house. Creating a place where my husband and kids are happy to come home to. Does that make sense?” She pressed her hands to her face.

He chuckled. “Why are you so embarrassed?” He reached for her hands and tried to pull them away, and she groaned.

“It’s not a very modern dream, is it? I don’t have visions of going into the workplace and dominating my field. I don’t see myself as being the mega boss, or working from the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep. It’s kind of old-fashioned.”

“It’s what you want to do.”

She sighed. “What about you? Did you always want to be a biker?”

“As a kid, I just wanted to get the hell out of there.”

“Where?”

“Whatever foster home I was in.”

“Oh,” Betty said. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. My memories are vague now, but I was a pain-in-the-ass kid.”

She let out a gasp. “No, there’s no way you were a pain in the ass.”

“I was. Trust me. I would cause all kinds of trouble, and it is why I ended up being shipped up and down the country. It’s why I ran away at fourteen, got a job, and didn’t look back. I kind of stumbled into this line of work. I found it, or I guess you can say, it found me.”

This place became home, after he killed someone to help the club. It was a long time ago. It was why his name was Grim. Anyone who posed a threat always ended up dead. Those were his rules.

No one ever took on the club and lived to tell the tale.

****

The following morning, Betty snuck into her aunt’s house, and she tried to be quiet. She left the clubhouse at six, and at that time, Grim had already been sound asleep. She knew it was silly to sneak away, but it felt very much like the walk of shame.

Only, they didn’t have sex. They talked all night long about their pasts, and she learned that Grim didn’t have it easy growing up. He also admitted he didn’t know if he would be a good father, to which she admitted she probably wouldn’t be a good mother, based on her experience with her own mother. It wasn’t exactly getting off to a good start.

Then, they talked about the fun at Halloween and the movies they watched. She got a feeling Grim didn’t like horror movies. Whenever she suggested a movie marathon, and when she talked about the movies she would watch, he came up with another suggestion. At some point, someone downstairs turned the music up loud, and rather than complain, she and Grim danced in his room. It had been fun.

She didn’t know what time they fell asleep, just that she woke up, and it was still dark outside. And now she was home, sneaking her way to the kitchen.

“Well, well, well, I did not think for a second I was going to find you sneaking in,” Martha said.

She turned to see her aunt’s shadow in the doorway of the kitchen. A second later, the light switched on, and Martha was in a robe, her hair disheveled, but she still looked so put-together.

“Aunt Martha, you’re up early,” Betty said.

“And you’re getting in late.” It was kind of strange, because her aunt’s tone sounded like one of pride, and there was a smile on her lips, yet the subject made Betty believe she ought to be in trouble.

“You’re not going to tell me off?”

“You’re a grown woman, Betty. I am not going to tell you off for living your life.” Martha rushed toward her. “Now, are you going to tell me you spent the whole night with your handsome biker?”

Betty laughed. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not?”

“Nothing actually happened.”