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Chapter Eleven
“WHAT’S THIS?”
Great.
Betty glanced up at her sister Bobbi and scowled.
It was Wednesday afternoon and Betty had just finished a shift at The Grill where she’d had to listen to the entire Ladies Ball League committee go on and on about Beau Simon appearing in the mixed tournament.
They’d come in for lunch, ten ladies, who were obviously rabid Beau Simon fans.
Oh my God, he’s so hot.
I want to have his babies.
Can that man’s eyes get any bluer?
And his hair! I just want to run my fingers through all that long blond hair.
And her favorite?
Do you think he’ll play shirtless?
Betty had thought her shift would never end, and had practically run from the place when it was over at two. Now she just wanted to relax. She’d grabbed a bottle of water and had thrown herself into one of the chairs on the porch. You know, so she could, enjoy the quiet.
Be alone.
She glared at Bobbi.
Relax.
Apparently her scowl did nothing to deter her sister because Bobbi plunked her butt into the other chair and reached for the script on the table between them. Betty had tossed it there the day before and still hadn’t opened it.
Bobbi picked it up and froze.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Betty’s tongue darted out and she licked the corner of her mouth. It was still split but the cut wasn’t all that noticeable. Her lip wasn’t what had Bobbi’s attention.
The first thing Betty had done when she’d gotten home was wash her face and she knew the yellowing bruise on her jaw was no longer covered by makeup.
“It’s nothing,” she said.
“Nothing?” Bobbi leaned over the table. “Did someone hit you?”
As soon as the words left Bobbi’s mouth her sister’s eyes widened and she sank back into the chair, shaking her head. “No. God, Betty! Please tell me that Dad didn’t…that he didn’t do that.”
Betty glanced back out over the front lawn, hating the way her heart squeezed so tightly that it made it difficult to breathe.
She shrugged and said nothing, the muscles across her shoulders so tense it hurt.
“Betty?”
She shook her head and remained silent. If Bobbi made a move to hug her or something, there was the distinct possibility that she would lose her shit.
That tight knot inside her had been getting bigger and bigger since Sunday, and like the bastard that it was, she knew it would explode when it wasn’t convenient. And it was never convenient for Betty to lose control.
“I’m sorry,” Bobbi said on a whisper.
