Page 35 of The Fear (The Hillers of Barratt County #7)

But someone fucker was knocking on her door like the building was on fire. What was that all about?

She finally pulled herself out of bed and grabbed her damned pants from the night before.

She almost hurled when she put her hand on something wet and gooey.

She had no idea what it was, and no time to look.

She and Billy had really partied last night.

Sometimes…especially lately, she didn’t always remember what happened after she really got into it.

She looked around—making sure his dead body wasn’t lying on her floor right now. Just in case.

That would not be a good thing. She could just imagine the gossip that would result, for one thing. Would shock her mother right down to her Hanes granny panties, that was for sure.

Her mother was such a good Christian bitch.

Going off on Jessica about her house being a mess.

Maybe her mom should come over and help her clean every week.

Her mom was retired. And not like her mom didn’t have Janie still living there with them, too.

Her sister was such a stupid cow. Too fat to find a real man of her own—of course most of that extra weight was just fucking boobs.

Guys liked the boobs, though. Logan had made it clear after he’d dumped her that if he had a choice, he’d rather fuck Janie than Jessica.

All because of the boobs. Men were always after Janie because of the boobs.

She was completely useless otherwise. Couldn’t converse her way out of a cardboard box, unless it was about something science related, either.

Jessica stumbled to the door, then slung it open.

She stopped. Paused. She recognized one of the women standing there. And the cop. Hell, it was that Jeremy guy. He’d been a deputy with Brenton forever. “What do you want? Did Brenton drive off a cliff or something? Please say yes.”

Jeremy’s face tightened. The Hiller bitch’s eyes widened.

Hell, she looked like all of her brothers.

All of those damned Hillers looked alike.

The guys were fucking hot, though. Even the preacher, though she wouldn’t want him.

Too boring. And self-righteous. Total waste for him to look like that, and be such a prude, though.

“Mrs. Curtis, my name is Waverly Merritt, and this is Greer Hiller—she’s here to observe. We are with DFPS. We’ve had a complaint with some concerns about your children. May we come in?”

Jessica just stared at them.

He’d done it.

Brenton had finally done it.

He’d called child services to come and take the kids from her.

And he was a cop, friends with all of them in this town.

And with Judge King not working there any longer, she was utterly screwed.

King had told her himself his last time in the diner to get her act together.

That he couldn’t make things happen for her any longer, and he’d only done so before because he’d been friends with her father—and had thought Brenton’s father was scum—for decades.

That utter bastard.

“He’s not taking my kids!”