Chapter 32
“I blame the garden gnome.”
-Cam
I woke with an ache between my legs and a pounding between my ears. The texts from my sisters and Wysdom lightened the mood a little, but the headache is getting worse.
We didn’t even drink that much tequila last night. Two shots. That’s not enough to cause a hangover.
I roll over and look for Aaron. Not there.
I sit up a little too quickly and grab my head. After the blood rushing through my ears quiets down, I listen for him in the house. Nothing.
Might as well suck this up and run it out of my system. I move around the room slowly, putting on my running bra, shorts, and tank top. I pull back my hair and don a Saber Security cap. After brushing my teeth and wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I enter the central area.
Aaron is nowhere to be found.
I frown and look at my phone.
No text. No call. Nothing.
Weird.
Whatever. I need to run this shit out of my system.
I learned a long time ago; nothing cures a hangover faster than electrolytes, water, greasy food, and sweating out the booze.
My stomach turns over. Ugh. Maybe we’ll think about the greasy food at a later time.
I grab a sports drink out of the fridge, and head out the front door.
Casper The Tatted Up Ghost appears out of nowhere.
“What’s up, Sir Tatted Talks Alot?” I raise an eyebrow.
He folds his arms and glares at me. He’s got this brooding thing down to a science. I snicker a little bit, thinking of Celia’s text to Cat and the man she needs to meet. I wonder if they’re one and the same.
I tilt my head to look at him. Yep. She’d dig this whole mysterious warrior vibe he’s got going. Plus, even though she abhors tattoos, somehow, I think this guy would light up her lady parts.
“Ryker? Where is Aaron?”
“Went up to the H-Q to talk to Mrs. Mendota.”
First of all, I forgot how deep and dark his voice is. Second - woot! I got the silent dude to talk to me. Third -Mrs. Mendota. That makes me laugh.
“Okay then,” I stretch my legs and arms. “I’m going for a run.”
He nods.
I head out on the sidewalk of the retirement community. I hear a slight thump-thump-thump behind me. I turn to see Ryker following.
“I don’t need a shadow,” I point at him. “We’re safely inside the walls of a 55+ community. I doubt a dirtbag terrorist can get through the perimeter y’all have set up.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s my job.”
I let out a heavy sigh, realizing I was too hungover for this shit. I turn to run down the street with my tatted-up silent shadow trailing me.
We’re running for a few minutes when I start to see black spots in my vision. I shake my head and slow my pace. Should’ve eaten that breakfast, I guess.
Damn it. How often do I have to tell myself - don’t think about food when you’re hungover and one good dry heave away from puking your guts out?
I listen about as well as Ryan does.
I pause to take a sip of my sports drink. It hits my stomach like a ball of lead. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. My legs feel rubbery, and suddenly, I can’t stand anymore. I go down to my knees in the grass beside the sidewalk. There are now more black spots than vision in my eyes.
Everything I ate yesterday comes up as I hurl onto some lovely old lady’s gnome garden. I barely register Casper hollering my name, then yelling into his phone.
I have the oddest thought before I pass out:Oh, hey! Casper can string more than two words together in a sentence. Awesome.
