Page 31 of Not that Impressed (Houston Pumas #3)

WILL

Ellie comes out of her bedroom within ten minutes with only a big backpack. “I’m ready.”

“That’s all you need?” I take it from her to carry it down to my SUV.

She hurries past me to the stairs. “I don’t need much to rescue my sister.”

When we stop by my apartment, I throw things in a bag in record time.

I’m not going to take longer than Ellie considering it was stupid of me to let another stereotype affect my view of her.

Did I think she was going to bring out a huge suitcase with ten different outfits and a separate duffle for her hair stuff?

The soonest Mrs. Bennet could get us out was midnight and we’re at the airport by ten. Waiting for our flight to leave from Houston International is torture. I hold Ellie’s hand and pace walkways with her, guiding her around while she scours social media for any clue about Libby’s whereabouts.

When we’re on the plane and in the air, she leans against my shoulder and searches posts tagged in Cancun for any sign of her then moves on to Cabo when it doesn’t turn anything up.

“You should sleep,” I whisper .

“I need to see if I can find anything first.” She doesn’t lift her attention from the phone.

I kiss her temple and don’t argue. I move my arm around her, shifting so at least she can rest against my chest as she searches. Then I study every picture with her hoping to see Libby.

By the time we land, get off the plane, and get through customs it’s nearly four a.m. We’ve been up all night, but Ellie’s still ready to hit the ground running.

I carry both our backpacks as we leave the terminal. “Any response from her?” I ask as we step into the cloudy day. October is the tail end of the rainy season in Mexico.

Ellie shakes her head in frustration and stares at her phone, like it will make Libby message her back. “Nothing.” She looks up at me, her expression full of fear.

“Her phone is dead. Or she’s being a teenager and ignoring you.” I scoop an arm around Ellie’s waist and wait until she relaxes against me.

“You’re so calm and steady,” she murmurs.

My habit of showing very little emotion helps in this situation. She doesn’t see the pit in my stomach from how much I’m worrying if there was more I could’ve done to protect Libby without betraying Anna.

What happened between Grayson and Anna is my cousin’s story, and she had the right to bow out of it, but now someone else could get hurt. There’s no way that Anna and Libby are his only victims. I’m sick thinking about it.

“Time to try something different.” Ellie taps on her phone.

Hollis’s name pops up, and she presses call.

The call rings and rings, and he doesn’t pick up.

Ellie growls in frustration, a noise of hers that’s usually entertaining to me, but right now it makes me want to go head-to-head with Hollis and drive him hard into the ground.

And maybe throw a few dirty punches in the process.

That’s one downside of none of the other teams in the league being willing to pick him up—I don’t get to face him on the football field .

She types out a message on her phone, and I read over her shoulder.

Ellie

Libby isn’t answering her phone. Just tell me if she’s okay. Where are you guys?

She holds her breath as the message sends. We see the delivery notification. My heart rate speeds up when it shows a read receipt.

Hollis doesn’t respond.

Ellie tries calling again. And again. By the third time, she gets sent to voicemail on the second ring. She lets loose on the voicemail, letting Hollis know exactly what she thinks of him in some language that would contain a lot of bleeps if her camera crew was around.

I put a hand on her shoulder and make her turn toward me. She glares.

“The last thing we need right now is Hollis leaking this voicemail and turning the story on you,” I say reluctantly. I gesture toward the phone. Her shoulders fall and her anger dies quickly. She bites her bottom lip as she taps through the prompts and deletes the voicemail.

She turns back to me, eyes wide and bright with tears about to fall. “I didn’t even think…” Her voice is wobbly.

“And that’s okay.” I take her by the arms. “You’re allowed to be scared right now, El. It’s okay if you lose it, because I’m here. Right beside you.”

She presses her face into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. “Tell me everything’s going to be okay.”

I summon the calmest, most sure voice I have. Even better than the one I use when it’s third and inches and the game is on the line, and I need my defense to step up.

“Everything is going to be fine, Ellie.” I can’t really promise this, but it’s what she needs to hear right now.

She nods determinedly and moves away from me.

Then she steps up to the curb and starts talking to the taxi drivers.

In Spanish. Considering she’s holding up her phone and switches between pictures of her sister and of Hollis, I can guess that she’s trying to find out if any of them picked them up last night or if they know who did.

I hover behind her, trying not to appear menacing, and probably failing.

More than one driver peers over at me with trepidation.

She walks up and down the curb for over an hour with no luck.

Then the downpour starts.

Ellie stands in the rain, searching for drivers she hasn’t talked to yet.

I take her hand and pull her back under the awning of the arrivals area.

“Maybe different drivers work in the evenings.” I hug her against my side since she won’t take her eyes off the cars pulling up and stopping at the curb.

“Let’s go to our hotel, out of the rain, and start calling around. ”

Her face falls in disappointment but she nods.

“You speak Spanish,” I say when we’re in the back of an SUV and on our way to a hotel that her mom already has booked for us.

“Yeah.” She pulls out her phone. “I took it all through high school and then in college. I figured it would be a good skill for a businesswoman in Texas to have.”

“It is,” I agree. “And it could help us find your sister that much faster.” I reach over and take her hand, grateful for the tiny smile she gives me.

She scoots over into the middle to sit next to me and calls Libby a few more times.

It goes straight to voicemail, and every time it does, Ellie looks up at me with worried eyes.

She tries Hollis a couple more times, but it only rings a few times before it also goes to voicemail.

The texts to Libby don’t show that they’re delivered.

Hollis doesn’t read the ones Ellie sends to him.

She pulls up her Instagram and picks a picture of her and Libby taking a selfie together at a Pumas football game.

They’re both grinning, and with Libby’s hair in a ponytail high on her head, she looks so young it’s like a punch in my stomach.

She doesn’t bother with any photo edits and adds the caption: My sister Libby has been traveling in Mexico and hasn’t been in touch with us since yesterday.

If you’re in the Cancun or Cabo areas or know anyone who is, please keep an eye out for her.

We just want to know that she’s safe. Reach out if you know anything.

“It’s time to leverage my ten million followers for something important,” she says when she posts it. There has to be a chance someone has seen Libby, right? I squeeze Ellie’s shoulder in support.

“We’ve got this,” I murmur. She puts her head on my shoulder, and I can only watch as silent tears slip down her cheeks.