“Shut the fuck up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
I rolled toward his voice. My head felt heavy, filled with concrete and cotton.
“What is that noise?”
“I don’t know, but you’re the big, brute Marine. Go kill it, whatever it is.”
I sat up. My head swam in one direction, the room spinning in the other. I fell back onto the bed with a moan.
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Please go kill whoever is making all that racket. I’ll pay you.”
“I would if I could, but I have a sneaking suspicion the racket maker is our heads.”
Declan groaned, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
He sat up and, like me, flopped back into bed. “Oh, fuck. Now, it does.”
“Told you.”
“Can you just kill me, then?”
“I could, but then you couldn’t kill me.”
“We could shoot each other.”
“Guns are loud, and mine’s back at base.”
“Shut up with the fucking logic.”
“I need water. A troll took a dump in my mouth.”
“Fucking nasty. Now, I need to vomit.”
“Do you think that would make us feel better?”
“I don’t know. At this moment, I’m willing to try anything.”
“Same.”
We lay next to one another, grumbling, trying to get the other to stop the pain and pounding or tell them they were breathing too loud.I dozed off at one point only to pop back awake, or maybe aware would be a better word. I didn’t fucking know. Words were too hard at the moment.
“Shut the curtains,” Declan groaned.
“Yeah, that requires moving, and I’m not sure the building isn’t bobbing in the ocean.”
“Oh, fuck. Don’t mention bobbing.”
“You own this fancy fucking place. You mean to tell me there’s not a button?”
“I don’t own it. The hotel owns it.”
“Semantics. The security guys wanna suck your dick. You might as well own the place.”
“They have.”
