I took the card and tore it into tiny little shreds. Dumping the bits and pieces in the cupholder that I used as a catchall, I shot Damon a look. “Do me a favor. You’re an asshole. Don’t pretend to be otherwise. You’re willing to throw my ass under the bus to find this kid. Fine—I get that. The Alpha is ready to murder to find him. Maybe if I had a nephew, I’d be willing to do the same. I don’t know. You’re willing to rough me up to make sure I understand the rules of your very fucked-up world. Fine. Don’t go getting all bent out of shape because of some perverted bastard decided he’d grab my tits and shove his dick against my ass.”
I shot him a narrow look. He stared at me with a stony look on his face.
“You sent me in there as a target—they see me as human, and I had no weapons, nothing,” I said and the words sounded even more stark, thanks to the ruin of my voice. “They saw a target, that’s how I was treated. End of story. Don’t act all sorry about it when it happens.”
Silence fell in the car.
Finally.
Chapter Five
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, I couldn’t have been any more desperate to call it quits. The sun was still burning in the sky, there were still calls I could have made, but I had several irons in the fire and that was going to have to be enough for now.
I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, my throat was killing me and my head wasn’t much better. The ache in my arm had faded fast enough and the headache was stress-related. All in all, if it wasn’t for my throat, I guess I’d come through the day well enough.
Spinning around in my chair with my back to the bastard shadow, I took a moment to massage my temples and then I touched the skin of my neck. It felt hot—swollen and bruised, pretty much what I’d expected.
I’d already checked it out when I went to the bathroom earlier. One place he didn’t follow me, thank God. I’d taken some Motrin, hoping it would help with the inflammation, although it didn’t do much for the pain.
It looked just as bad as I’d figure it would
Angry red marks and ugly black bruises stood out against pale flesh. I now looked like somebody had tried to smash my throat in—imagine that. There was also bruising along the right side of my face where he’d slammed me down against the trunk, but that wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
Shutting down my computer, I pushed back from my desk and started shoving files into my bag. There were various police reports and Banner reports I still needed to work through and I might try to do a little more work in the privacy of my own home, away from this bastard, but for now? I was done.
Checking the time, I thought I should probably go ahead and pop another dose of the anti-inflammatories, so I headed into the small bathroom. I hit the light after I’d shut the door and stared at my reflection.
I don’t look like much. Light blonde hair that I kept short. Pale skin. Dark eyes.
Right now the circles under my eyes made them look bruised…rather matched the line of bruises along the left side of my throat where his forearm had smashed against me, the mottled discoloration on my cheek where my face had a close, personal encounter with the car.
Thanks to my sleepless nights, I was color-coordinated with my bruising.
Grimacing, I opened the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of Motrin, popped the cap and shook out triple the dose a human would take. Bad thing about my bloodline was that although I healed a little quicker than humans, it took more for human meds to affect me. I was hoping that would also mean it would take more for the meds to damage my liver, because at the rate I was going, I’d be tearing the hell out of it, otherwise.
I had to chew the damn things up and damn, were they nasty, but swallowing them whole just wasn’t an option. Swallowing felt like I was chugging down chopped-up razor blades. It would be better in a few days, I knew. Sadly,
I shot him a narrow look. He stared at me with a stony look on his face.
“You sent me in there as a target—they see me as human, and I had no weapons, nothing,” I said and the words sounded even more stark, thanks to the ruin of my voice. “They saw a target, that’s how I was treated. End of story. Don’t act all sorry about it when it happens.”
Silence fell in the car.
Finally.
Chapter Five
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, I couldn’t have been any more desperate to call it quits. The sun was still burning in the sky, there were still calls I could have made, but I had several irons in the fire and that was going to have to be enough for now.
I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, my throat was killing me and my head wasn’t much better. The ache in my arm had faded fast enough and the headache was stress-related. All in all, if it wasn’t for my throat, I guess I’d come through the day well enough.
Spinning around in my chair with my back to the bastard shadow, I took a moment to massage my temples and then I touched the skin of my neck. It felt hot—swollen and bruised, pretty much what I’d expected.
I’d already checked it out when I went to the bathroom earlier. One place he didn’t follow me, thank God. I’d taken some Motrin, hoping it would help with the inflammation, although it didn’t do much for the pain.
It looked just as bad as I’d figure it would
Angry red marks and ugly black bruises stood out against pale flesh. I now looked like somebody had tried to smash my throat in—imagine that. There was also bruising along the right side of my face where he’d slammed me down against the trunk, but that wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
Shutting down my computer, I pushed back from my desk and started shoving files into my bag. There were various police reports and Banner reports I still needed to work through and I might try to do a little more work in the privacy of my own home, away from this bastard, but for now? I was done.
Checking the time, I thought I should probably go ahead and pop another dose of the anti-inflammatories, so I headed into the small bathroom. I hit the light after I’d shut the door and stared at my reflection.
I don’t look like much. Light blonde hair that I kept short. Pale skin. Dark eyes.
Right now the circles under my eyes made them look bruised…rather matched the line of bruises along the left side of my throat where his forearm had smashed against me, the mottled discoloration on my cheek where my face had a close, personal encounter with the car.
Thanks to my sleepless nights, I was color-coordinated with my bruising.
Grimacing, I opened the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of Motrin, popped the cap and shook out triple the dose a human would take. Bad thing about my bloodline was that although I healed a little quicker than humans, it took more for human meds to affect me. I was hoping that would also mean it would take more for the meds to damage my liver, because at the rate I was going, I’d be tearing the hell out of it, otherwise.
I had to chew the damn things up and damn, were they nasty, but swallowing them whole just wasn’t an option. Swallowing felt like I was chugging down chopped-up razor blades. It would be better in a few days, I knew. Sadly,
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