92. Chapter Ninety-One
Chapter Ninety-One
Riley
Fucking hell, my head is killing me. And this bed sucks ass. It’s all hard and lumpy and … I’m in a fucking tent. That’s why my back hurts about as much as my head does.
I sit up slowly, feeling around for the bottle of water that I know is close by.
The headache is probably mostly dehydration.
I find the half empty plastic container and quickly drain the rest of the contents.
Man, water is boring, but it tastes like the nectar of the gods this morning.
Always the same after a long night of drinking.
A couple of hours lounging by the pool would cure it, if we were at Golden Sands.
I groan as I realize today is gonna be a special kind of hell.
No more booze. I’m on the road to sobriety now.
Oh, yeah, and I’m about to go on a four-day trek through the woods with one lead Alpha who’s starting to act like the old version of himself, and two little brothers who are fighting over who gets exclusive access to a blonde reporter.
Fun times ahead.
I push myself out of the tent instead of collapsing back down into a sleeping position.
The hard, lumpy ground makes it a whole lot easier to want to get up.
If I’d been sleeping on the beach, I’d probably still be sleeping.
Yawning, I get to my feet.
I stretch my arms above my head, one by one.
Ugh. I stink.
I guess those are the consequences of my actions.
Too bad we don’t have a real shower on the tin-can death-trap.
I move over to the second tent.
The flaps are already undone, and no one’s inside.
Guess I’m the last one to wake up then.
Xane isn’t lurking around out here.
I head up the steps to the jet, and peer inside the cabin.
There are backpacks laying around, but there’s no sign of my pack brothers.
“Yo, Xane!” I call out, giving him a second to hear it and respond.
“Ki! Trick! Where is everyone?”
I turn back to the woods and wonder if they’re already on the beach, eating breakfast or lunch or whatever.
Who the hell knows what time it is in a place like this? Watches should be illegal out here.
I head through the trees toward the beach, and I run into Xane coming my way.
“Oh, there you are. Is there a campfire for breakfast already or something?”
He shakes his head, his jawline tight. “Trick and Kian snuck out of their tent at some point last night.”
“They snuck out …” I blink at him. “You don’t think they’re in the bedroom with that blonde?”
His expression tells me that’s exactly what he thinks.
“Huh.” I murmur. “I would have bet on Trick. Both of them? She must be pretty wild.”
Xane sighs. “I was hoping they would have surfaced by now. We need to get moving.”
“So?” I ask.
“So?” he echoes, confused.
“So, lets wake them the fuck up.”
He sighs. “I doubt they’ll …”
I march back toward the jet, stomp up the steps and go into the cabin.
It’s all quiet as I approach the bedroom door.
Well, it’s about to get noisy as fuck.
I bang my fist on the door. “Hey, wake up! We’ve got shit to do.”
I listen for a sec before I retreat.
Xane looks at me expectantly when I step back outside.
“They’re definitely in there, and now they’re definitely awake.”