Chapter 28
Finn
Fuck my life.
Why did everything hurt so much?
I didn’t drink that much, did I?
No, I never did.
I thought.
Maybe a pint of beer and a shot or two.
Nothing that should make my head pound like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.
I groaned and tried to roll over.
Fuck.
Why was my bed so damn hard?
Had I slept on my fucking bathroom floor?
I tried opening my eyes, but they didn’t want to listen. Every time I even so much as dared to blink a bit, a fresh wave of pain rolled through me, turning my stomach.
“Fuuck,” I moaned, my mouth rapidly filling with saliva.
I tried moving my hands to get up and reach the actual toilet before I threw up all over myself, but they didn’t budge.
What. The. Fuck?
My stomach rolled, and pain exploded across my head as I threw myself to the side.
Blinding agony rushed through me as I started heaving, each new wave setting off another round of daggers in the back of my head.
Bile rose in my throat. I couldn’t swallow it back down.
Oh god.
I threw up all over the floor, the sour taste filling my mouth, the stench creeping into my nose, making it hard to breathe as more and more pain flooded my system.
What the hell was going on?
“Ah, fuck. He’s awake. Uh. And he’s making a mess of himself.”
I didn’t know that voice, did I?
No, pretty sure I’d never heard it before.
Footsteps approached rapidly.
Something pricked the back of my neck.
My eyelids grew even heavier.
“That dealer guy said it’s fast-acting. Should only take a minute or…”
The rest of the sentence was drowned out by blackness.