The best part of all was that she had her own time with them every Saturday at Healing Rides.
Bonnie’s question still hung between them. In response she reached up and ran her fingers through her newly styled locks.
Over the weekend, while they’d been in Houston, Tasha had taken them both to this really chic salon. Libby had called her mom when she’d found out about the treat and had asked if she could get her hair colored, as well as styled. Of course, her mom had agreed.
Her dull, mousy, choppy brown hair was no more. Now her hair was a slightly deeper brown, with a few blond highlights scattered through it. Cut in a sweet style, her hair now framed her face. It was also super easy to take care of. Libby loved it.
Bonnie’s hair was styled the exact same way. They looked like sisters, and that suited Libby—and Bonnie—just fine.
Now, Libby giggled. “Brandon has no experience with teenagers at all,” Libby said. “But he is trying. Even though I think he’s the main Alpha of the two, he kind of takes his cues from Trace when it comes to me.”
“That’s sort of like Gord.” Bonnie nodded. “Though he’s not really as much of an Alpha as my dad is.”
Libby grinned. It was so cool having one more thing in common with her best friend. Then she frowned. “I told you about how Adam found out my mother’s ex was looking for her?” Over the last couple of weeks, Libby had come to a decision. She decided not to think of Buck Cosgrove as her father. He wasn’t her father. At best he was…what? A sperm donor. Ick, that makes me think of him and Mom…Libby closed off that thought, but she couldn’t hold back the shudder. The man was her mother’s ex, and that was it.
“Yeah, and it freaked me out. Oh my God, did he find her?”
“Not her, but he showed up at the Roadhouse, and that was his major mistake, right there. He saw Grandma Kate and Aunt Bernice and Chloe having lunch and thought they, being kind-looking older ladies, would help him find Mom.”
Bonnie’s eyes went wide. “He is so stupid!”
“I know, right?” Libby shuddered and frowned. “I don’t think I have much of him in me, thank God.”
“So…the guys? Your hair?”
Libby grinned. “After they got over the shock, they were so cool! Brandon said they were going to have to be extra vigilant, that all the boys were going to be checking me out.” Part of her did think that was funny, but mostly, she just felt…safe. The guys and her mom hadn’t been together all that long, but already they acted like they were a team. And that—knowing they were there for her mom and for her—that just made her feel good.
“There’s a creepy old man looking at us.” Bonnie moved her butt as if she were uncomfortable on the wooden bench.
“What?”
“He’s walking this way.” Bonnie’s voice slipped into a harsh whisper, and she pulled her hands out of sight.
Since the man was apparently approaching from behind Libby, she didn’t turn around to look. But she had a very bad feeling.
“Hey, maybe you girls can help me out. I’m looking for a kid, a girl. About fourteen, kind of sickly. Her name’s Elizabeth. Elizabeth Cosgrove.”
The sound of that voice brought back memories long forgotten. She’d heard it in her nightmares, an echo of something not quite real. As Libby had fought the cancer that attacked her body, she’d cried for her daddy, wanting, needing, every imagined comfort and sense of security she didn’t feel, knowing she could be dying.
The sound of that voice banished those yearnings, that crying out for something that never had existed, returning to her memory the reality that had.
Get your shit out of the living room.
Don’t whine. I hate whiney brats!
Get outta my way, damned brat.
Rachel, shut that brat up, or I’ll do it for you. I don’t care if she bumped her head. Wouldn’t have happened if you were taking better care of her.
He’d never used her name except if there’d been company, and then he’d always called her Elizabeth. Never, ever Libby.
Well, no wonder I hate my full name.
Deep inside, where she knew that part of her that had felt so rejected, that had at times been bleeding, that part of her began to heal. And the sadness, the desolation that had lived inside her turned into a white-hot raging anger.
“You can’t just approach kids at a park and ask for another kid,” Bonnie said. “How do we know you’re not some kind of an axe murderer or serial rapist?”
Libby’s eyes went wide. She looked at Bonnie and saw, immediately, that her bestie had figured out who the old guy was.
“You’re a smart kid. You’re right. I’m not an axe murderer nor a serial rapist. Where the hell do you kids come up with this shit? Probably social media. Anyway, I’m Elizabeth’s father. I just got back from overseas. I haven’t seen her in a long time. I’ve missed my little girl, and I’m sure she’s missed her daddy.”
Something inside Libby snapped. “Elizabeth Cosgrove doesn’t have a father.” She got up from her seat then stood and faced the man who’d been her…sperm donor.
“I don’t have a father,” Libby said. “Just some useless loser who doesn’t know how to be anything else but a useless loser.”
“Bitch.” There wasn’t much distance between them, and Cosgrove reached out. His hand slapped the side of her face close to her eye so hard she saw stars. The blow propelled her back a few inches.
“Fuck off, you jerk!” Bonnie jumped up and came at Cosgrove, kicking him
