Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
What greeted Clay first when he awoke was the ache of his muscles. His sleep had been shallow, spent tossing and turning against a mattress padding so thin that he felt every coil of spring hidden beneath the papery motel sheets. Next came a pressure behind his temple pressing like a fist to the bone of his skull. Clay's tongue was sandpaper, his throat lined with thorns. His first swallow tore his tonsils and he shivered with pain, wiping sleep from swollen lids with the back of his hand.
Whether it was stress from the night before or the dust and mites of the motel room, it didn't matter. Clay felt like shit, plain and simple. He'd never been the type to get a restful night of sleep but this had been one from the pits of hell. Gingerly he slid his feet to the floor in a vain attempt to ground himself. He hunkered down as he breathed through clenched teeth, clutching his brow as he felt the full force of all that sleep had deafened. The sting was so strong that it took several rounds of vibration from his phone to realise it was ringing in the first place.
He grabbed it, panic tearing through all else as his eyes flew to the screen. Wincing at the light, he squinted just enough to see Kelly's name before he brought it to his ear.
"Clay! Fucking finally. Do you know what time it is?!"
Her voice hit his ear drum violently and he withdrew his hand a distance to muffle the shrill. Reality hit him square in the chest and Clay shuddered. Kelly, he hadn't thought to text her before he'd fallen into bed. From the light streaming through the curtains, it was certainly well past morning. He had left her to fumble in the dark in silence.
"Jesus ... Fuck, I only just woke up." He muttered through a tirade he still lacked the wits to decipher. "L-Look, I'll send you the money through from her account, if you can just find someone to co—"
"Oh, another job for me? Do you realise how selfish this is? I was worried! Still am! Where even are you?"
"Las Navadis."
"Las Na— Clay, what the fuck?! Your big important thing was to run off and play blackjack at the casino? When you said you were figuring out what happened to Brock, you didn't mention following in his footsteps. Do you even realise what you've put me through?"
