Page 27 of Banshee's Lament


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He stops in front of a decrepit looking house that appears as if a strong wind will cause it to collapse and turns to leer at me. Frissons of fear dance through me at the expression on his face; he looks nothing like the man I thought I knew. In his place is a cold, calculating person who has no problem hurting women.

“Any man who puts his hands on a woman is no man at all.”Grampy’s voice seeps into my subconscious.“The only time that should happen is out of love.”

“Like I said, you have something of mine,” he growls out, getting out of the van then opening the side door and yanking me out by my bicep before tossing me onto the ground. “Why do you think I pursued you? You’re definitely not my type at all,Rory,” he sneers.

Hurt thrums through me; even though there’s no way I’d ever go back to him after what he did, I honestly thought at first, we were building a future together. At least when Grampy was still alive, that is, because he dropped part of his facade shortly afterward. I was just too numb and exhausted to notice, like I told Banshee.

Banshee. My heart starts to beat harder when I think of the tall, dark, and handsome biker who literally swept into my life and turned everything upside down. I briefly wonder if he’s been told I was kidnapped, and worry that Patrick might’ve hurt the other ol’ ladies or even the prospect.

“What is it youthinkI have?” I ask, keeping my tone even and almost conciliatory, as if I genuinely care at this point.

“My RV,” he announces, shocking the hell out of me. “Now get up and walk,” he demands, jerking me up onto my feet instead of waiting for me to get up myself. “And don’t try any funny shit. I have no problem blowing your fucking head off. You’ve caused me so many problems.”

“What do you meanyour RV?” I question, stumbling along beside him since he’s got my bicep in an ironclad hold.

“Just what I said. Stupid brother was supposed to make the payments while I got it all set up for our business,” he replies, opening the door of the house and shoving me inside. “Went to the auction that day and was going to buy it back when that fucking old man outbid me.”

My eyes widen at his admission as pieces of the puzzle slowly start coming together. It was maybe a week or so after Grampy came home with my RV when I met Patrick for the first time at church. Like I told Banshee, after that, he was suddenly always there, and we began dating. Hell, he often helped me and Grampy with the chores around the farm! I bet he was looking for the RV the whole time, and I’m suddenly happy that he never had access to the barn it was stored in, that’s for damn sure.

As I sit on the floor of the house, where he tossed me once we were inside, I work to reconcile who he portrayed himself to be in the beginning with the man standing over me now.

Gone is the put-together person and in its place is someone who looks like a street thug. Hell, he’s not as big as Banshee or his brothers, but despite the fact their sheer size alone is intimidating, I’m more afraid of Patrick than I am of any of the men I’ve met in the past two days.

“How did you find me?” I ask, trying to figure out what I did wrong.

“It took me some time since you weren’t using the card from our account, but I think it was yesterday? Maybe the day before? I got an alert on the bank app and traced the location. Started running the roads keeping an eye out for the RV. Saw you broken down on the side of the road, but by the time I got turned back around, those bikers were there,” he sneers. “So, I watched and waited, then followed you to their clubhouse, bitch.”

I want to cringe when it dawns on me the only reason he found me was something so simple. Up until I stopped for gas right before the radiator crapped out on me, I’d been diligent about using the other debit card. However, I had pulled out the joint one to check the balance and ensure some of my bills had cleared, and must’ve slid it into the wrong spot in my wallet. I barely hold back my shudder at the contempt in his voice, especially when he calls me a bitch. I mean, like most women, I can be one, especially when I’m on my period, but I truly do try to treat everyone the way I want to be treated. Plus, if I am cranky, I try to stay to myself.

“That doesn’t explain how you found me today,” I continue probing. I mean, just finding the clubhouse doesn’t tell me shit, actually.

“Followed that SUV to the mall and bided my time,” he retorts, before rearing his leg back and kicking me. “Now, tell me where the fuck my RV is at, I’ve got customers waiting on that shit.”

I shrug even though pain is thrumming through every nerve right now. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly I’m hurt. “No idea. I was told they were working on it, but I don’t know where it’s at,” I reply.

My answer sends him into a rage and before the darkness rises up and claims me, I send up a silent prayer to my grandparents to help.

Banshee

Rory was taken.

Those words ring in my ears even after Raptor calls all the available brothers into Church. As my fists clench and unclench, I listen to the men, no,brothers, discuss the best way to go about finding my woman. Instinctively, I know her ex took her, and I realize he’s going to hurt her far worse than he did nearly two months ago.

“We have to find her,” I bite out, my teeth clenched so tightly my jaw aches.

“We will, Brother. Got Facet going through the mall’s security cameras now. Once we know what he drove off in and which direction, we’ll head out,” Raptor advises.

Right now, I’m grateful that Scythe and Kracken are still with me. I know one of them has let Brick know about what was going on, because my phone has been vibrating non-stop. However, much like at home, phones aren’t allowed in Church. The only reason I have mine on me is because Raptor was hoping that Patrick might try to call.

The only problem is, she doesn’t have my phone number, which is something I plan to rectify the minute we find her and she’s safe in my arms.

“He’s a dead man,” I state. “Don’t care who does the deed, either to be honest. As long as a Royal Bastard ends his sorry-ass life, I’ll rest easy. He treated her terribly, y’all,” I confess, sharing just a little of what Rory dealt with before she left. Growls of anger, including one that sounds suspiciously like a mountain lion, reverberate throughout the room, and I watch Ares stand to his feet.

“Got anything of hers in the room y’all used?” he asks, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, she’s got a duffel bag in there. But don’t let her cat out, I don’t want to have to search for her,” I reply.

He nods toward Raptor then heads out of the door while the rest of the brothers offer various inventive ways of ending Patrick’s life. If I wasn’t so worried about Rory right now, I’d be adding in a few of my own, but my focus is on what she’s likely going through. As the emergency meeting comes to a close, I follow the rest of the brothers out to the bar area, stopping when I see the ol’ ladies Rory was out shopping with, sitting off to the side. All three are crying and there are bags piled up around their feet.

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