Forty-Five
Hannah lifted her head, blinking, struggling to work out where she was.
‘Good morning. I’d ask how well you slept, but considering the position you’re in, I’m guessing it wasn’t good.’
Max’s voice came from behind her.
She wiped drool off her chin, pushed away from the bench she’d been using as a pillow, and turned to look at him. As usual, he was clean-shaven and wearing a fresh suit of body armour. Hannah looked down at her shirt and jeans, grimacing at the bloodstains and creases. She put a hand to her head, and found most of her hair had escaped from the ponytail she usually kept it in and was now a tangled mess.
She groaned, sure from the teasing light in Max’s eyes that she looked terrible.
‘What time is it?’ She freed the rest of her hair and finger combed it as bes
