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“Well, it sounds like he broke… everything,” Kate said. “They’re putting him in a body cast.”
Wyatt shrugged. “At least we know we won’t be hearing from that idiot again any time soon.”
After that, there wasn’t much talking, just cooking and eating, which suited Becca just fine. Once her growling stomach had been quieted by a pile of eggs and toast, though, she did find herself wondering out loud about the night before.
“What I want to know is,” she said, “how in the hell did they find me? I mean, I wasn’t even sure where I was going. I just drove out into the middle of nowhere and plunked myself down.”
“Credit card, maybe?” Griz said.
“You can track that?” she said.
“Sure,” Griz said. “The cops do it all the time.”
“But could the Bone Heads do it?” Becca asked.
“Death’s Head,” Griz said. “Not directly, I don’t think, but Death’s Head has a corrupt cop or two on their side.”
“Oh, right,” Becca said. “Wyatt’s lizard queen ex-wife. I thought she was in prison, though.”
“Yeah, but Death’s Head might have someone inside who could contact her and get her to share her contact that she used to track cell phones.”
“Cell phones!” Becca said. “That’s right. God, this whole life of crime and living on the run is so complicated.”
“We should use burner phones here, then,” Griz said.
“Oh, right, Chewie!” she said. “Good point. They could track the phones here. Nice using of your brain there.”
She almost patted him on the arm. Almost. She actually started to reach out to do it before she stopped herself. Something like that might tip Kate off.
“Now, if you guys don’t mind,” she said, “I need to take a giant, fat nap. All this craziness last night has worn me all the way out.”
She decided to leave out that in addition to the attack by Death’s Head, she’d been kept up past her bedtime by wrangling with a giant North American Trouser Snake. Nobody needed to know about that.
With that, she left the other three in the kitchen and plunked herself down on the bed heavily. She hadn’t been exaggerating about being tired. As soon as her body hit the bed, she felt like she was melting into it, sinking in to the mattress like quicksand. She was out like a light before she knew it.
When she woke up with a start, for a few seconds, she’d completely forgotten where she was. She sat bolt upright, looking around at the strange walls, the strange floor, the strange everything, before it dawned on her that she was exactly where she’d laid down for her nap.
“Losing my mind,” she muttered to herself.
The cabin was quiet, almost eerily quiet, and Becca wondered where everyone had disappeared to. She got up, looked around the bedroom, and then wandered into the kitchen. There, she saw a piece of paper sitting on the counter and she picked it up.
Fishing, was all it said.
That must be Griz, she thought.Anyone else would’ve used at least a few more words.
So it looked like Griz and Wyatt and Kate had all gone fishing while Becca was deep into her nap. Well, fine. She’d never liked fishing anyway, so now she had a chance to collect her thoughts without distraction.
She began replaying last night’s attack over and over in her mind, hearing the shotgun blast, watching Griz fall backwards under the impact. The terror she felt watching Skinny gloat over Griz, knowing it was her turn next.
And then, something odd happened. The images running through her head shifted, away from the attack, to the moments after Griz had thrown Skinny off of the balcony.
Now it was the feeling of holding on to Griz as he drove his motorcycle away from the motel and to the cabin. The firmness of his abs under her fingers. Her shock at the size of his dick when it first hit the light.
More and more, her thoughts were lingering on that last part, so much so that she found herself getting mildly aroused just by the memory of Griz’s jumbo size dick filling her hand. She actually had to shake herself physically to rouse herself out of those thoughts before she got too turned on and had to deal with it herself before the others came back.
She giggled a little at herself, shaking her head as she wandered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Now her thoughts were less erotic, more clinical.
His dick had been a little out of control in the size department. She’d had a hard enough time wrestling with it by hand, imagine if she’d tried to take it further?
