My back ached, a dull throb curling up my spine as I stirred awake, twisted in a cocoon of crumpled sheets. The room was silent and pitch black. I shifted slightly and winced as my jeans dug into my waist. Groaning, I reached for the lamp on my nightstand, squinting as the warm yellow light flooded the room, piercing through my pounding head.
I dropped my face into my hands, pressing hard against my temples as if I could will the headache away. The throb in my skull was merciless. My fingers tingled as I slowly lowered my hands and stared at the white gauze wrapped around them.
My breath caught.
What the hell happened?
“Are you okay?” His voice, low and gravelly with sleep, came from the armchair in the corner.
I looked up and blinked, disoriented. There was Jackson—barefoot, wrapped
