Chapter 18
Doyle
The pulsing pain of his headache seemed worse than the night before. Doyle stared into the mirror and saw that one eye was beginning to go purple and black and the cut on his forehead was held together with butterfly stitches and looked worse than it was. He felt the lump on the back of his head and winced.
Eventually, he decided the black eye and stitches gave him sort of a tough guy look. Maybe it’d be good for business, he thought.
“You all right in there?” Kord asked without opening the bathroom door. Doyle was grateful for Kord’s discretion especially since he wasn’t feeling or looking his best.
“I’d feel a lot better if you came in to give me some assistance,” Doyle joked.
“Doctor said rest and I think he meant rest. Like, you know, rest. So no hanky-panky toda
