Chapter 75

It's early and Angel lies curled up on her side, spooned into my body. The other side of the bed is empty. I disengage myself and search out Monroe.

It's time to talk.

When I fail to find him in the usual places, I go to the den. Monroe sits in his large overstuffed chair drinking from a half-filled tumbler. He doesn't acknowledge me, just lifts the glass to his slightly swollen lip, and takes a deep drink, draining the glass.

I clear my throat and Monroe's head comes up. "I know it's five o'clock somewhere, but even for you, this is a little excessive."

"I will not disagree."

That's magnanimous for him. "Are you in pain?"

His laugh. It vibrates through me. "Do you mind if I ask how much you've had?"

"Not enough," he grunts.

This is not the Monroe I know. The man was born from alien life forms, maybe the combination of Mr. and Mrs. Spock. I sit in the other chair and decide to keep quiet. Monroe rests his head back against the plush material and lets his eyelids fall shut. Thro