Chapter 31
The pain woke him.
It wasn’t that dizzy thrill, or the sharp spike of awareness. No, it was an ache. A burn. An all-consuming, inescapable pain that simply hurt, and nothing more.
Stefan rolled off the mattress with stiff arms. The fabric was bloody. And his chest was swollen and hot.
Infection.
Well, what did he expect?
He felt exhausted. Stressed. There was an anger simmering below the surface, too, and the violent urge to cry. To punch the wall. To—f**k.
Be f****d.
By—
“No,” he told himself, and reached for his clothes. His hands were shaking. He needed to take the edge off somehow.
Scrounging through pockets and drawers, he rustled up five pounds in change, though only barely. The flat felt small and claustrophobic; the cage on the door was a cold reminder of what
