Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Callum
“Where’s Pen?” I interrupt Jordan as he and Joel are talking to another one of Dean’s men in the driveway.
“Last I saw him, he was running toward the trails,” Jordan says, pointing in the direction of the woods. “Do you need me to radio him to come back?”
“No. I’ll go find him.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, you walking alone in the woods. Let one of us go with you,” Jordan says.
“I don’t need a babysitter while I’m here, do I?” I ask, doubtful that I need a bodyguard. Pen can’t be that far off.
“Yes, you do. I promised Pen I’d keep an eye on you and I’m not going back on my word. I’m coming with you.”
“Fine,” I huff and begin walking toward the narrow trail up ahead. “But if Pen and I need space to talk, then you’re gone.”
“Got it,” Jordan salutes and follows behind me.
Even though I’m anxious while looking for Pen, the walk through the woods is refreshing.
Spring is in full bloom, but the air still has a little bite to it—it’s like a sweet Honeycrisp apple.
Buying property similar to this has been at the back of my mind since we got here, and the farther I walk through the California wilderness, the idea begins to feel more like my new reality.
“Where the heck is he?” I ask over my shoulder to Jordan—except he’s not there. I turn back around and scan the area. “Jordan,” I shout, but I don’t see or even hear him.
Then all the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my skin becomes gooseflesh. My instinct is telling me to run like the devil is chasing me, but in which direction? Back to where I came from? Or do I keep moving ahead and shout for Pen? And am I healed enough to even run very far?
I check my pockets. “Damn it.” I forgot my cell phone on the kitchen table.
A crack of what I think is a branch being stepped on has me freezing in place. Then I hear another. I take off in the direction I was walking, but I haven’t been on this path before and soon realize that it doesn’t lead to the other side of the lake. No—it leads to a small open field.
I’m exposed, and panic seizes my brain. I can’t think. Then I hear my name being called. “Callum.”
Overcome with relief, I’m about to respond… except that the relief allows me to think again. There is a creep factor to the man’s tone that has fear gripping my chest to the point that I’m losing my breath.
“Callum.” The lyrical tone triggers a memory. A memory that dredges up terror. All the air leaves my lungs, because I know exactly who this is.
Oh god. It’s him.
I blindly take off toward the security of dense trees on the opposite side of the clearing.
Low branches scratch at my face and arms as I run through them.
Stinging pain along my cheeks doesn’t deter me from racing away from that bastard.
Neither does the pain in my arm after I smack my splint on a sapling when I stumble against it.
As I pass through a more heavily wooded area, my hair feels like its being pulled. I swear the trees are alive and grabbing for me.
Just keep running, I can hear Granddad say in my head. Or am I becoming delusional?
“Callum!”
I hear my name again, but this time, my heart eases back from the terror. “Pen!”
“Keep calling for me, Callum,” I hear him shout from a distance.
I pause for a moment, trying to calm my racing heart. The pounding in my ears is making it impossible to gauge which direction Pen is shouting from. “Pen!”
“I’m here,” he responds back, his voice getting louder. “Don’t move. Just call my name.”
“Pen,” I shout again. As I keep scanning my surroundings, I am filled with an eerie certainty that someone is watching me. And was I hearing Pen calling my name from afar? Or was it my attacker?
“Callum.” Pen’s close, I can hear him up ahead. As I start to walk in that direction, pain explodes from the back of my head and my vision goes dark.
“Callum. Sweetheart. Wake up for me.” I can hear Pen’s voice, but the pain behind my eyes is making it difficult to open them. “Christ sakes, why isn’t my radio working?”
“Pen?” I say in a whisper. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, babe. But I found you out cold, on the ground. Did you trip and hit your head?” Pen has my head propped on his lap and is gently checking my scalp. “You do have a bump on the back of your skull. Let me look in your eyes.”
“What?” I say, finally opening my lids and looking up at Pen’s worried gaze.
“You’re coming off one concussion and you just got another knock on the head.” He studies my eyes for a minute. “Your pupils look fine. Am I blurry?”
“No. You always look fine, Pen,” I say with a slight smile.
Pen kisses my forehead. “I think you’re all right. So back to business. Why are you walking alone in the woods? I thought I told—”
“Jordan was with me, then suddenly he was gone. Then I heard… his voice—but I think maybe it was you calling me, and I just thought it was him because I was panicked and alone. But I can’t be sure,” I confess, trying to sit up.
“Move slow. I want you to get your bearings before you get to your feet.”
“Pen. I swear it,” gripping his hand tightly. “Something actually hit the back of my head because I felt pain before I blacked out,” I explain, trying to rehash the event in my mind.
“You said his voice. Who were you referring to? Do you think it was Jordan calling for you?” Pen asks as he helps me to sit up.
I meet his stare with a note of apprehension. I don’t want him to think I’m losing it. “No, it wasn’t Jordan. Pen, it was my attacker. I swear it sounded just like him. But maybe—”
“Don’t doubt yourself. We can’t discount anything right now,” Pen says as he grasps both my hands and slowly hauls me to my feet. “Are you able to walk on your own?”
I take a calming breath, then a step to make sure I won’t get dizzy. “I’m good, for now.”
“Okay. Now where were you when you heard his voice?”
I lead Pen back in the direction I came from… hopefully. When we arrive at the clearing, I point to where the voice seemed to come from.
“I hope Jordan isn’t hurt like I was,” I say, slowly scanning the area. “This is where he should have been when I heard him.”
“When was the last time you saw Jordan?” Pen asks as he studies the ground around us.
“Not much farther,” I say and start walking in the direction.
“Don’t move,” he says and I freeze on the spot.
Pen carefully walks over to me, his eyes focused on the ground. He bends down and studies a print in the soil.
“What did you find?”
“Not sure yet. But,” he pulls out his cell phone and takes a picture of the shoe print. Then he proceeds to reach for some sticks and carefully surrounds the print with them. I don’t ask what he’s doing since it’s self-explanatory. “Let’s go find Jordan.”
He takes my hand and we walk back until we find the trail I started on. But there’s no Jordan.
Pen’s radio chirps. “Come in, Pen. Fig here.”
He taps his earpiece. “Is Jordan with you?”
“That’s a no. I was told that he went with Callum to look for you.”
“Yes, but I found Callum alone, and hurt. Gather Joel and Dean’s men and meet us where the trail meets the gravel drive.”
“Ten-four.”
“Pen.” I swallow down the worry and ask, “Where’s Dom?”
“I don’t fucking know. Right now, he’s not my concern. You are,” he says with some bite, but I know his anger isn’t aimed at me.
I just hope that Dom gets back here soon to help find Jordan and track down whoever is on the property.
I won’t be able to sleep otherwise. And while I believe Dom can help find Jordan and figure out what just happened to me, I’m not sure he can fix his relationship with Pen.
I don’t know what I was thinking about, wanting to be in a relationship with these men.
This only proves my thinking about relationships. They never work.