Find My Way Home (Bulldogs MC #4)

2: That Explains A Lot

^^ Lenni ^^

Sleeping in a park isn't too bad most nights. I mean, the bench is uncomfortable and it gets pretty chilly, but it's bearable. For the last few nights, I'd abandoned my bench, and had made a little den in a patch of trees. Well, more like I'd found one that someone else had obviously built, and just adapted it to suit me. I'd piled twigs up on the floor and was surprised at how comfy it actually was. It was the most comfortable bed I'd had since leaving Atlanta, and I was feeling pretty smug.

That smug feeling was soon gone though, as I walked around the grocery store trying to find something I could afford with what little change I had left. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the ladies in the next aisle were talking so loudly, I couldn't help it.

"It was on the news this morning. Weather warnings for the whole area. Apparently, there's a nasty storm heading in, and they're advising everyone to stay indoors,"

My stomach drops and I swallow hard, panic settling itself deep inside my chest. I mean, my den is pretty cool, but it wasn't anywhere near wind and rain proof. I grab a packet of mixed fruit and nuts off the shelf and hurry to pay, trying to decide what to do. I can already feel the temperature dropping as I step outside, and I stuff my hands into my pockets as the cool breeze hit them. It's one of those total cliché moments; I'm trying to think of what to do when I feel the napkin Lenni gave me the other day digging into my hand.

I know where the clubhouse is. I'd walked past it when I was exploring during my first couple of days here and had pretty much avoided it ever since. But now it didn't really seem like I had a choice. Knowing my luck, I'd end up blown away with my den tonight, and I'd end up in Ohio or something. The walk to the clubhouse doesn't even take fifteen minutes, and I spend the entire time giving myself a pep talk. Lenni seems cool, so the guys she hangs around with can't be too bad. I mean, they listened to her when she told them to let me go, right? So they'd listen to her again, surely? And to be honest, why would she go to the trouble of buying me food and sticking up for me, just to let something happen to me at the clubhouse?

I realise that I'm currently standing in the car park looking between the front door and the road behind me, and I feel like this is one of those moments where the choice you make will define the rest of your life. Yes or no, left or right, in or out. I've pretty much decided to just stop being an idiot and go in when I hear the rumble of engines heading towards me, and I bolt. My heart races as I sprint down the road away from the clubhouse, and I don't stop until it's out of sight. Then I end up doubled over with my hands on my knees, cursing myself for how unfit I am. Half of me wants to turn back and just go through that door, but I know that the guys who arrived as I bolted had seen me and I didn't wanna look like an idiot, to be honest.

Of course, that would be the moment that I feel the first drops of rain, and I tip my head back, letting out a long groan. I tug my hood up and begin wandering the streets, trying to think of somewhere to go. I get the feeling it's gonna be a long night.

***

One good thing I've come to love about this tiny town is the complete lack of security on most of the buildings. I'd found myself at a community centre that didn't really look like it was ever used, and had forced the door open sighing in relief when no alarms went off. I was hoping I'd find a towel or something, but the best I could manage was to stand awkwardly at the hand dryer, trying to get as much of my body under the warm air as possible. It was pretty pointless but after spending the whole night getting soaked in my little den, I was grateful for the warm air, even if it didn't dry me properly.

I manage to find a small kitchen and get to work raiding the cupboards, only to be disappointed when the only thing I find is a packet of stale biscuits and a tin of some kind of fish. I screw my nose up and then freeze when I hear footsteps. As I turn around, my eyes go wide as I spot two sheriffs, both aiming their guns at me. They seem to realise I'm not a threat as they holster their guns, but they still rush towards me, with the shorter one grabbing my arms and yanking them behind me, making me wince as my shoulder stretches painfully.