Jolie POV
I spend the next two days trying to be invisible.
It's harder than it sounds in a compound full of bikers who notice everything. But I manage to slip through routines like a ghost - helping in the kitchen before anyone else wakes up, doing laundry in the basement while everyone's busy with pack business, staying in my room when the common areas get crowded.
I'm good at being invisible. I've had years of practice.
The cuts on my hands are healing, though they still throb when I grip things too tightly. Doc offered to rewrap them yesterday, but I told him they were fine. The less attention I draw, the better.
I'm in the garage now, trying to organize the tool area without touching anything too expensive. Knox found me here an hour ago and just nodded before going back to work
