CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Georgie sat half-in, half-out of the Spider, a little woozy, head throbbing and fighting down nausea. She massaged tender spots and dusted off grit stuck to her skinned feet, then leaned towards the mirror, angled her face and inspected her jaw. She’d have a huge bruise for Christmas, which would make AJ blow up and his stick-in-the-mud parents say, We told you she’s too common for you, son.
She tried to get a grip, reminding herself that he hadn’t r***d her. But the valve on her anger opened wider. The shithead’s got my file.
All her general research into Bullock and the wildfires. Gone. Grabbed from her hand as she’d raced away. Fortunately, not the audio file interviews on her computer or her notes on the main players in her story including Goyne; all that was in
