“I’m afraid I had to improvise.” Hitting Bob with the butt of the heavy plastic gun would have gotten Derrick booted from Cascadia for two “dangerous combat infractions.” First, he’d used a weapon (in this case an airsoft gun) that hadn’t been safety checked, and second, he’d deliberately struck an illegal area—Bob’s head. Anyone who’d met Derrick LARPing, when he played Rickard, the noble leader of the peasant rebellion, would have been shocked by his behavior.

But what was happening now wasn’t a game with endless arcane rules. It was real life. And Derrick might just like it better.

“There’s a divot in my head.” Bob’s eyes shone wetly. “I’m probably lucky I woke up at all.”

It was clear he’d spent all day lying around having a pity party. Derrick didn’t have the patience for it. Not when they had gone to such lengths to help. “I left you a warning. You need to finish Eyes of the Forest.”

Bob made an obvious effort to change his tone. “Yes, I do,” he said brightly, as if to a child. “You’re absolutely right. But I’ve had all day to give this setup some thought. And this idea, as good as it was originally, isn’t actually going to work. So I’m telling you again, Derrick.” After a meaningful pause, Bob looked him straight in the eye. “Buffalo.”

Derrick didn’t move.

“I’ve changed my mind.” Bob waved his hand. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate how you set all this up and even added the treadmill, but the book will get written when the time is right. I can’t force it. So I need you to remove the shackles and then take me back home. Of course, you two can keep the ten thousand dollars. I’ll even reimburse you for the treadmill. Keep it, sell it, or return it to the store. It doesn’t matter.”

As if any of that mattered. “You need to finish the series.” Derrick had been waiting for years, and he couldn’t wait anymore. Wouldn’t.

“But I’ve realized this won’t work.” Bob offered him a strained smile.

“I’m not doing this for the money. I did it so I could finally read Eyes of the Forest. I’m your biggest fan.”

Bob sighed. “Don’t you get it? That’s what everyone says. Literally thousands of people have told me they’re my biggest fan.”

Anger shot through Derrick. He reflexively raised the stun gun, squeezing the trigger. The air filled with the crackle of electricity. Bob cowered.

He cowered.

Bob was afraid of him. Of Derrick. If only people in Cascadia could see their favorite author now.