Been too busy or tired to shop much lately." "Sure, I'm serious," I said. "Let me take you to the Inn out by the truck stop, they have a pretty good breakfast." She turned to me then, her eyes directed to the floor as if to avoid my gaze, her robe open and untied. It dawned on me she didn't want to see my expression. I could suddenly understand why. She looked, quite frankly, like Hell. As if perhaps she'd been on a binge of alcohol and self neglect. For a very brief instant, I wondered where the girl had gone that had shared that bed and passion with me. Her hair was rough and unkempt, her skin too pale and drawn. Her still pretty face had lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth I hadn't noticed before, the kind of lines that are sketched by laughter and caring. She finally allowed her eyes to rise to mine and before I could hide it, she took in my expression. I managed a crooked smile and said, "You might want to put some clothes on." She smiled briefly then brightened. "Ow, what the fuck, James Jackson thought. His head felt like it had been used as the ball in a volleyball match. He opened his eyes and stared blurrily at a plain concrete floor.Someone needs the services of an interior decorator, he thought. Urgently.He was sitting in a chair. He tried to stand up and then realised he couldn't. His hands were bound behind the chair and his feet were bound to the legs. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised.At least it saved him the embarrassment of vomiting the very expensive Sushi he'd had for lunch over his very expensive Hamilton shirt. His stomach churned like a washing machine full of crack whore's panties. Any sudden movement and he'd be adding his own bit of colour to the dusty grey floor.He raised his head.Slowly.Uh. His skull felt like it had been blown up to beach ball size and pumped full of raw sewage. It hurt like a bastard.There were two men standing on either side of the door. Jackson recognized Ben Grimm's younger brother, but the.
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