KAT
Forty-Seven Days
Someone's crying.
Not the slow build that means they're waking up hungry—the full-on emergency broadcast that says Takeshi's been awake and pissed for at least thirty seconds and why the f**k isn't anyone fixing it immediately.
My eyes won't open. Body's making a convincing argument that four hours of sleep after twelve hours on a plane and Dave's extremely thorough welcome home isn't enough to qualify as rest. The mark on my throat pulses warm, still sensitive from where his teeth found it last night, and yeah, okay, some of the exhaustion is worth it.
Takeshi's howl kicks up a notch. The bedroom lights flicker.
"Jesus Christ." I pry one eye open. Early morning sun, which means it's probably not even six yet. "I'm coming."
Dave's arm is dead weight across my w
