Page 1 of Property of BamBam
PROLOGUE
Olivia
“I definitely made a mistake,” I whisper to myself as I crawl over to where Theo’s sitting in his bouncy chair. “But, baby boy, your mama’s no dummy even though it looks like it right now.”
My sweet boy, the reason I’m still trudging through this hell of my own making, smiles at me. I’m not sure he can actually see me yet since he’s so young; he’s probably just responding to my voice. Assured now that he’s okay, I manage to pick myself off the floor, wincing and biting back the moans of pain that try to break through. It’s time for me to go because the next time, he’s sure to kill me.
Keeping an eye on the man who’s become the bane of my existence, I quickly and quietly pack everything I can think of into my backpack, including diapers, formula, and bottles for Theo, as well as a couple of changes of clothes for my boy. His birth certificate and social security card go into the zippered pouch on the inside, along with my driver’s license and other important papers. Then I hit up the hidey hole where I removeall the money I’ve been steadily putting back every time I was allowed to go to the grocery store. Jasper’s usually so drunk, he doesn’t notice the occasional twenty slipped from his wallet or even the fact that I asked for cash back when I slid the debit card into the machine, and the few times he’s bitched about it, I tell him that he probably spent the ‘missing money’ buying more booze or something.
“One last thing,” I mutter after I clean myself up as best as possible. I can barely see out of one of my eyes and I’m confident that a few ribs are either badly bruised or even broken. Since there’s nothing I can do about that, I put clean clothes on then strap Theo to my chest, wincing from the pain of his added weight, and wrapping a blanket around him for protection before I slip the backpack over my shoulders. “This is gonna hurt,” I mumble after looking around to see if there’s anything else I can grab.
Spotting Jasper’s wallet and keys, I take the money that’s in there then hide his keys in the freezer to give me the best possible head start I can get. My left arm and wrist are killing me, but it’s not the first time I’ve had to fight through the pain. His switchblade goes in my right front pocket; I need some way to protect my son from anyone that threatens him. I think I proved, at least to myself, that I would do whatever it took to keep Theo safe.
Which is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Jasper came in from work, already drunk and in a foul mood. Unfortunately, Theo woke up from his nap in a fractious state and was crying, which ramped up Jasper’s attitude to nuclear levels. However, when he stomped toward Theo, his arm upraised, I put myself in front of him instead.
I may not know a lot, but I know I’ll protect my little boy until my very last breath, and that’s what I did today. As Jasper set about beating me to ‘teach me a lesson’, I fought back with everything in me. The crowning moment was when I managed to grab my cast iron skillet and hit him in the head with it. He went down and hasn’t moved since. I originally thought I had killed the bastard, but his chest is still moving, so instead, I decided to run.
Swallowing a few pain pills, I walk out the door of the shitty trailer that Jasper and I live in and start moving. My goal? To get as far away as possible before he wakes up.
“I don’t think I can go much further,” I tell Theo who coos up at me from his swaddled position on my chest. Right now, I’m glad a friend gave this to me because there’s no way I could’ve carried him with my left arm likely broken and my ribs aching with every breath.
I don’t know how far away I am at this point, but I’ve been walking and running for over two hours now. I’m thirsty, my body is throbbing like one giant bruise, and all I want to do is curl up on the ground and rest for a little bit. We’re so far out into the country that I haven’t seen many vehicles, although I’ve been traveling along the tree line, slipping into it every time I hear a car.
This time, though, I’m too weak and exhausted to do anything more than silently weep when Theo, sensing my distress, starts to whimper. “Shh, it’s going to be okay, sweetie.”
I’m so focused on my boy that I never heard anyone stop, but when I catch sight of someone standing there out of the cornerof my eye, I scream for all I’m worth and fall to the ground, my body covering Theo’s to protect him from the wrath I’m positive is heading my way.
He must have found me after all. As those thoughts rush through my head, I hear, “Ma’am, I’m not here to hurt you.”
The man’s voice, while soothing, does nothing to allay my fears. He’s probably one of Jasper’s drinking buddies for all I know, sent out to find me and take me back so Jasper can finish the job.
“H-h-he sent you, I know he did,” I stammer, finally looking at the man as more tears swim in my eyes.
“No one sent me, Pixie,” he softly replies. “But you need help, and I can do that, at least. C’mon now, I promise you’re safe with me.”
The man is huge and imposing, causing me to crouch down even further. But behind his size, I see something I haven’t in a very long time. Kindness radiates from him. While I’m positive he’s more than capable of holding his own in a fight, right now, he’s holding his hand out to me.
“I can’t run any further,” I admit, holding up my good hand to grasp onto his. He carefully helps me up then places a steadying hand on my lower back when I start to sway. Pain is thrumming through me at this point and all I want to do is get somewhere that’ll be safe for me and Theo before I completely collapse.
“What’s your name, Pixie?” he asks as he leads me to the truck.
I notice it’s hauling a huge horse trailer and there are words on the door indicating the vehicle is from the Triple R Ranch. I’ve heard of it, anyone near West Texas has. It’s the home of one of the Kings of Anarchy chapters and I briefly wonder if I’mgoing from the frying pan into the fire. I don’t know much about motorcycle clubs except for what I’ve seen on television and read in books, but I’ve heard of the Kings of Anarchy and one of the things people say is that nobody fucks with the Kings and lives to tell the tale.
“Olivia,” I whisper. “But my… my family used to call me Livy or Ollie.”
“Well, Livy, you’re under the protection of the Kings now and nobody fucks with the Kings,” he promises. “Let’s get back to the ranch and we’ll sort you out, okay?”
“Thank you,” I say, hiccupping as he opens the back door to help me inside. I startle when I see a man sitting in the front seat and try to pull back, ready to run again.
The man says, “He’s with me. You’re perfectly safe and we’ll stop at a store to get a proper car seat for your little one.”
“Theo. His name is Theo. I wasn’t able to carry his carseat too, so I had to leave it behind,” I reply.
“No worries, Mongrel here is going to write down a list of what you and Theo need. When we stop, he’ll go inside and grab it all, okay? We’ve got you now, Livy,” he tells me. I can’t help the sniffle that escapes as he carefully buckles my seatbelt. “We’ll get your injuries checked out by our club doctor once we arrive at the ranch.”
“Okay.” I can’t help the nervous tremor in my voice when I briefly glance at him. I see anger cross his face but instinctively know it’s not directed at me, which allows me to draw in a deep breath. No, I’m pretty sure he’s angry because I look like a giant bruise right now.
He gently closes the door and moves to the driver’s side where he hauls himself inside and starts talking. “Mongrel, there’s paper and a pen in the console. Livy, go ahead and listeverythingyou need because I’m pretty sure there’s not much in the backpack for you and Theo.”
