Thirteen
I wasn’t sure what roused me at first until I moved my left leg and pain seared through my nerve endings. A guttural groan burbled in my throat.
“You’re awake,” a semi-familiar voice said.
I cracked one lid to see a hazy figure with purple hair leaning over me. My vision cleared to reveal my apartment in disarray and instinct kicked in. I tried to move to defend myself from the intruder—my head was fuzzy but I was pretty certain I hadn’t invited Desmond’s little spy in—but everything went slanted and I collapsed back on the couch.
“Whoa, calm down, Savior lady. You’re hurt pretty bad.”
I swallowed the cotton feeling from my mouth. “K-Kayla.”
“Well, at least whoever used your face as a punching bag didn’t mess with your memory. Didn’t make your personality any better, but som
