The Morning After

Rick

I had no sense of time when I woke up on Sunday morning. It was day, but the light streaming through the partially open curtains was gray and dull, promising a gloomy day. Rain pattered against the window, and I knew that was what had woken me. With every passing minute that I lay on my back with my eyes closed, it rained harder.

It was a soothing thing to wake up to.

I’d slept well. Better than I expected, given the condition of my body.

I lifted a hand to press gingerly at my ribs on my right side. There was pain, sure, but it wasn’t the intense, burning, sharp pain that it had been yesterday.

I opened my eyes and lifted my head to inspect the bruise. It was dark purple with yellowing around the edges. Just a normal bruise.

My head was aching horribly, but that was to be expected after the couple punches I’d taken. My lip didn’t feel swollen anymore. Overall, I felt better than I thought I would.

I owed that to Harley.

She’d been a fucking rock star last night, both in dealing