Page 29 of Tormented

NINE

Sawyer

Jesus Christ, my head. I open my eyes, blink a few times, and try to remember what the hell happened. All I can see is the hazy image of my bike lying wrecked. Did I come off?

In a manner of speaking . . . .

Damn it. Whatever the hell happened, it wasn’t enough to knock that asshole out of my head.

Come on now . . . you’ve got a present waiting for you.

A what? My whole body aches as though I’ve been run over. Shit. Maybe I did come off and get in an accident?

Do you really think you’re that bad of a rider . . .?

He has a point; I have excellent history, so dropping my bike doesn’t sound all that likely.

“How you feeling?”

I turn my head toward the soft voice behind me, rolling my body over on the sofa so that I face her. Abbey.

“Rough.”

“I bet.” She reaches out, and fuck me dead, willingly picks up my wrist to feel my pulse.

Yeah, it’s quick, sweetheart, but not for the reasons you might think.

“What happened?” I ask her.

She frowns, tipping her head to one side. “You don’t recall?”

I shake mine.

“Huh,” she says simply.

“Well?” I tuck my left elbow back and push to sit up, yet almost end up on top of her.

Not that it would be a bad thing . . . .

Back off.

“Careful.” She coaxes me back onto the sofa, dusting her hands on her knees after she’s done. “You’ll be a bit wobbly.”

“Why do I feel like I’ve had a huge fuckin’ night out with Hooch?” I rub my head, trying to remember anything other than the bike.

“There’s no soft way to say this, so I’ll just spit it out.”

I ease onto my side to listen to her as she starts to explain, but hold a hand up to stop her, my eyes going wide.

“What?” she whispers.

“Look.” I point behind her. “Are you seeing it?”

“Uh, the wall?” she asks dryly.

“The motherfuckin’ March Hare, man. Look at him!” Jesus, I love that crazy bunny.

“Okay,” she says, pushing my shoulders to make me lie down. “Time to take it easy for a while.”