28
“Wake up, sleepyhead! Time to catch bad guys.”
I opened my eyes to a Conor-shaped silhouette in front of a window. His eyes burned like lasers into my skull. Or maybe that was just the sunlight coming through. My mouth tasted of cotton flavored with tequila and cat s**t. My body felt as if I’d somersaulted off the top of the Papago Buttes. My hair smelled like puke.
“I…whuh?” My mouth didn’t seem to want to kick into gear.
Conor stepped away from the window, pulling a shirt over his ripped body. “Come on, love. We both got people to track down.”
I pulled myself into a seated position on the bed and stared at the floor until the room quit spinning. I could tell from the tile we were at Conor’s bunker. “What the hell happened last night?”
“I picked ya up at L Street after Chelsea ca
