CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
My head feels like the replica of a battle field. Is this what hangover feels like? Because I certainly don’t want to have a repeat of this. The thrumming in my skull gets louder and I squeeze my eyes shut, letting it rest against the car window. The painkillers Adam had literally shoved down my throat almost an hour ago are not doing me any good.
“Here. Have some more water,” Adam quietly hands me bottled water as he gets back in the car.
We’d stopped at a gas station for a refill. Muttering a thank you, I unscrew the lid, putting the open end on my lips. The iciness of the water is a welcome relief on my tongue.
“I can’t believe people sell their souls for a little buzz only to end up feeling like s**t the following day,” I whine, putting the half empty water bott
