Page 43 of Property of BamBam
He gets a puzzled look on his face as he looks skyward, as if he’s thinking through the past few hours. “Earlier, when she and BamBam were walking around. Saw Theo all gussied up. He’s a cute little bugger.”
“That he is. So, you haven’t seen her since then?” I question.
“No. Is everything okay?” he probes.
“I think her ex must have gotten her,” I convey, sharing my concerns. Glancing at my phone, I continue. “She went to the bathroom about an hour ago now and she should’ve been back, but I can’t find her anywhere.”
“I’ll help you look for her. Has BamBam been notified?” he asks, pulling out his own phone.
“I have Ashley looking for him,” I say. I watch as his fingers fly across the screen of his phone and realize he’s sending at least BamBam a text, although, right now, I want everyone looking.
“Okay, where all have you checked?” Mongrel questions. I quickly tell him, and he nods the whole time as his gaze moves to and fro around us. “I think we need to start checking these buildings out. They’re supposed to be locked since most of them have extra supplies for both the ranch itself, as well as the rodeo, but it doesn’t hurt to check them.”
“Should we split up?” I ask. “Or stay together?”
He considers my question for a brief moment before answering, “I think we should stay together in case we find her, and she’s hurt.”
“Good idea,” I murmur. “I’m going to let you lead because I’m pretty sure you know your way around the area better than I do.”
He smirks, which must be something they learn when they decide to become bikers or something, because I’ve seen a lot of the men walking around in their leather cuts doing the same thing whenever they’re amused. Whatever. I’m not concerned with their emotions or facial expressions; I’m worried about Livy. Granted, that in and of itself is odd for me, but as much as Beth has helped her, she’s done the same for me as well.
Digging through the hell that my childhood was has made me see that I was beaten down long before I got involved with my ex. While I did everything right with regard to my kids as far as showing them, they were loved and cherished, my one regret is not going far enough away from him. If I had, maybe Angus and Carolina would still be here. Shaking off those thoughts, I follow behind Mongrel as we start searching the buildings.
We’ve already cleared two of them by the time BamBam comes rushing toward us, worry etched on his face. “Any sign of her?” he asks.
“Not yet,” Mongrel replies.
“There’s no way possible for him to leave the ranch without someone spotting him, is there?” I ask the two men, since I have no clue how big this place is or how secure the non-event areas are to keep outsiders from snooping.
“I mean, if he did something to incapacitate her, it’s possible he could make his way over to where the livestock trailers areat, but it’s doubtful. Pancho and Luis know what she looks like and they would’ve raised the alarm,” BamBam states. “Let’s keep looking.”
“He better hope he’s managed to take himself out,” I mutter. “Otherwise, I’m going to channel all this unresolved trauma into my fist and punch his lights out.”
Thankfully, neither BamBam nor Mongrel say a word to my threat, but I’m not kidding. While growing up wasn’t a picnic since I was often tasked with helping with my younger siblings, it wasn’t too horrible.
No, Marge, don’t try to downplay what you went through,my mind whispers. Taking a deep breath as we approach the next building, I allow myself to think about how itreallywas for me when I was younger. My dad checked out after the last of us were born, leaving my mom with too many mouths to feed and not enough money coming into the household account.
Our door should’ve been one of those revolving ones as she started ‘entertaining’ men for money. She didn’t set the best example for me and my siblings. Our psyches were debilitated from growing and expanding, finding the right ways to make money and be proud of how we did that. The worst thing, though, was when she decided I was old enough to start pulling my own weight when I turned sixteen.
One of those men started ‘dating’ me and I ended up having my two babies. But he was a cruel, manipulative man so it wasn’t long after Angus was born that I left and never looked back. I was determined that despite the abuse I put up with from him that I was going to have a better life. However, the day he broke into the place I was staying and then held me and the kids as hostages while he repeatedly beat and raped me, is one I’llnever forget. That memory is ingrained deep inside of me like a growing cancer that’s never been treated. I can still hear Angus and Carolina screaming after he threw them against the wall. The sound of their little bodies thudding onto the floor is one that wakes me up in a cold sweat night after night.
When the cops finally breached the front door, he waved his gun at them, screaming he wasn’t going back to prison, then he shot himself right in front of me. I haven’t felt clean ever since. His blood still stains my soul, and because I didn’t run far enough, my two sweet, innocent children do as well.
“What the fuck?” BamBam exclaims as we enter another small building. I can see the hat that Livy was wearing on the floor, crushed as if someone destroyed it in a fit of anger. There’s also a little bit of blood that I can see, and I start sending out prayers to the universe to protect Livy.
“Wait, BamBam, look,” Mongrel says, causing me to lean down.
A trail of blood leads to the back of the building, where there’s another door. I continue to follow behind both men as they search, uncaring that they have their guns drawn. I mean, we’re in Texas and I think it’s almost a given that everyone who lives in this state carries a weapon of one sort or another.
Personally, I don’t. While I haven’t done it in a year or so, after losing Angus and Carolina, I took self-defense classes, and learned Jiu Jitsu. I have no problem taking someone down using my body. Hopefully, this fucker doesn’t have a gun, but I’m betting that BamBam and Mongrel won’t be the only two Kings who are carrying. They can handle that part.
“Shit, shit, shit,” BamBam bellows as we head through the back door.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Olivia
