CHAPTER 7
V IS FOR VODKA
Shea tossed and turned throughout the night. Even with the help of the Vicodin the ER doc had prescribed, she couldn’t find a position that was comfortable. Her whole body ached, but the worst was the road rash. The feeling of raw, exposed flesh cut to the core of her being. Even when she drifted off, dreams of falling and crashing haunted her sleep.
The next morning, Toni and Annie pampered her with a brunch in bed, fit for a queen. Eggs and chorizo, crispy bacon, an English muffin topped with blackberry preserves, and a bowl of fresh fruit, with black coffee to drink.
“Thanks, ladies,” Shea said through a mouthful of eggs. “I should crash my bike more often if this is how I get treated.”
Toni laughed. “I wouldn’t recommend it. After breakfast, I’ll take Anni
