Nixx
I got three hours of sleep in a motel room that smelled like bleach, stale cigarettes, and regret.
That was generous, too.
Calling it sleep implied my brain had actually shut down at some point. It hadn’t. I’d stretched out on top of the scratchy comforter with my boots still on and one arm thrown over my eyes while the air conditioner rattled in the wall like it was trying to escape. Every time I drifted close to unconsciousness, my mind dragged me back to JJ standing in front of that bedroom mirror.
Not because she was naked.
That wasn’t what stayed with me.
It was the way she looked at herself.
Clinical.
Detached.
Practiced.
Like she wasn’t seeing a body so much as a damage report.
The bruise on her jaw. The stiffness in her shoulders. The way she shifted her weight care
