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wiser than us, evidently. I should have known this was a
trap..."
"Yeah, I kind of figured it was, I just thought I could
handle it. How's your eyes? Mine are starting to clear."
But by the time our respective eyesight had recovered, ten
minutes had passed, and Decker was long gone. We loaded into
Beau's black Ferrari and searched for him for a while, but I was
getting a headache and finally called it a night. Beau dropped
me off at my apartment complex and roared off to hunt Decker
again.
I staggered up to my apartment and reeled into my bedroom.
Peeling out of the tight red dress, I dropped it on the floor and
fell on the bed. Just before I drifted off, I reflected that
Decker would probably be surprised I didn't sleep in a coffin.
Imagine the worst hangover you've ever had. Now cube it.
Now cube that. Your head bongs like the Liberty Bell--and feels
just as cracked. Your stomach is making violent attempts to turn
itself inside out and dump its contents into your abdominal
cavity, and your mouth feels like Death Valley...complete with
the buzzard droppings.
That's pretty much the way I feel when somebody wakes me up
at 2 o'clock in the afternoon by letting the daylight blast into
my fa
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