"Wake up!" Someone yells in an annoyingly high pitched voice.
I don't move. I'm too worn out.
"Up! Now!" He yells, and before I comprehend that he's up to something, he slaps me across the face.
I blink my eyes open and I take in my surroundings with a frown.
Fuck! It wasn't a dream. I'm in a narrow bed with a pounding head and an ache in every part of my body.
I groan in pain as I try to sit up, and I bite back a frustrated cuss when I realize that one of my hands is cuffed to the bed. Are these people insane?
"Arise and shine." The annoying voice talks again and I quickly realize that it's Michael. His voice irritates me to no end. "Do you want another drink?"
"What time is it?" I whisper dryly. I'm thirsty and beat, and I have a terrible hangover. I lost count of the brandy g
