My head still hurt.
I forced myself to blink slowly, counting each one to make sure the room stayed where it was supposed to be.It wobbled a little, then steadied.
Okay.
I stayed still and listened.
At first, there was nothing but the birds again.
They were relentless—chirping and fluttering, reminding me that the world was continuing on without me.I could almost picture them hopping around outside the camper, heads tilting as they searched for crumbs or bugs, completely unaware that someone was trapped just feet away.
Then, voices.
Not right outside the door.Farther off.Muffled by distance and trees and whatever else was between us.But close enough that I could make out words if I focused.
I held my breath.
“…told you not to answer.”
That voice was familiar.One of the two who’d come in before.The shorter one, I thought.The one with the sharper tone.
Another voice replied, lower.Tense.“I didn’t answer.I let it go to voicemail.”
My heart started to pound.
A third voice cut in.I hadn’t heard this one before.Rougher.Older.More annoyed than angry.“What the hell are you two talking about?”
There was a pause.Long enough that I strained to hear more.
“Yogi just called.”
Yogi.Like the bear always looking for his picnic basket?Road names were always a trip.
“What did you do?”the third voice snapped.
“What the fuck do you think I did?”the first voice shot back.“I didn’t answer.”
“Good,” the third said.“What did he say?”
Another pause.
“He’s pissed,” the second voice admitted.“Real pissed.Wants to know what the hell we’re doing.”
My throat went dry.
“Said he got an interesting call,” the second continued.“From the President of the Fallen Lords MC.”
My heart slammed so hard it made my head throb.
They knew.
They were looking for me.I never doubted it, but damn did it feel good to hear it.
“Son of a bitch,” the first voice muttered.
“And?”the third pressed.
“And there’s a fucking ‘and,’” the second voice said reluctantly.