Chapter FourI wake in a pool of perspiration. My face is damp and my hairline drips in thick, salty sweat. Kam sits next to me with a tight grip on my arm. She's clearly been awake for a while. She's dressed, and is holding a steaming mug in her other hand. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her hair is a mess, yet she somehow owns the look. It's as if she meant to come off as a naturally tired and stressed out beauty.
“You were screaming and kicking, Markie. Are you okay?”
“I, I… I don't know.” I manage through shallow breaths.
“Well, pull yourself together. We better get this bed cleaned up before that cop with the hots for you shows up.”
“I just barely went to sleep. What time is it?”
I search for my alarm clock as I speak. It's gone. Had I even put it there, or was that part of my dream?
