47Charlie's throat was dry. He tried to open his eyes and closed them again. It was daylight. He'd screwed up. His body was still buzzing from the drugs. It was day six. They were out of time and he was in no state to pick up the game. He reached for his phone. Eight missed calls from John and even more texts. He scrolled through them. Call me. f*****g call me. Call me now asshole. Then they got really abusive.
He groaned and felt for Jess.
“Honey, I've got to go,” he said, patting her hip. Something wasn't right.
He sat up. Jess wasn't moving. He shook her. Nothing. Her body flopped lifelessly in his arms. There was movement in the house. Noises getting closer. The bedroom door was open. From the sounds coming in off the street, so was the front door. He'd been out nearly twelve hours.
