"Are you sure you should be making coffee? You look like hell."
I slammed the rude customer's coffee down on the counter with a fake-ass grin on my face. "I've never felt better."
She gave me the stink-eye and must've been the defending champ of sneering because her upper lip just about reached her forehead. "I'm going to disinfect this cup."
"Okay, you do that." I saluted, dismissing her, and then turned my attention to the next customer in line.
I was sure she was right - I probably did look like hell. Though the scratches and bruises from my harsh meeting with a window last night had faded quickly due to my slayer healing power, the mental scars were still there. I hadn't slept last night. How could I with memories of what had happened to Tim streaming through my head? It had le
