Chapter 22Sleep started to recede. I tried to entice it back, and groaned when I couldn’t. Memories of the last few hours returned with a vengeance, the drive to Huntingdon, the videotape, the glass of whiskey. I didn’t bother opening my eyes. I didn’t get drunk often, but when I did…I knew what I was going to face. My head pounding, ready to roll off my shoulders and spin around on the floor, my stomach taking bets as to whether it would stay put or spew in an eruption that would rival Vesuvius, and this time, my ass aching, having been f****d thoroughly and without a condom for the first time in thirteen years. That was the one that pissed me off the most—that I’d been out cold and unable to enjoy it.
A soft kiss brushed my forehead. “What’s wrong, babe?”
I peeled open an eyelid. “You
