Page 91 of Peace Under Fire

A clink sounded to her right, like he’d set a glass or something down on the table. Without opening her eyes, or moving, she frowned, questions unfurling. Where was she, and how did she get here? While she vaguely remembered floating through the air, her memory was just one hazy impression after another.

She cracked her lids open and waited for the grit to stop rubbing her eyeballs raw. Once her vision had cleared, she carefully rolled her head and studied her surroundings. She was back in the cabin she shared with Jacob, lying on the couch, with a blanket covering her. The sofa was set directly behind the living room window. No wonder the birds were so loud. They were directly behind her. A tall glass full of a bronze-colored liquid sat on the roughhewn coffee table to her right.

Again, that vague memory of floating through the forest, cocooned in a bubble of green light, tickled at her mind.

“How did I get back here?” she asked. She suspected somebody must have carried her. Please, let it have been Pipe. He’d seemed good-natured. Please, please, please.

“Since you were incapable of walking back on your own, I carried you.”

Shit. Mandy groaned beneath her breath. That was the second time he’d carried her, and she didn’t remember it any better than she remembered the first time. What a tragedy.

She regrouped, looking for a diversion. Her gaze fell on the glass of dark fluid. “What’s in the glass?”

“Something to turn down the pounding in your head and settle your stomach.”

Okay, that did sound promising. She inched up, freezing when her stomach rolled. Once it settled, she gingerly reached for the glass. She braced herself as she lifted it to her lips, expecting something awful—maybe bitter or sour. Instead, the cool, refreshing taste of coke filled her mouth.

“Coke? That’s your special remedy?” She started to laugh, only to freeze as her stomach rolled.

Jacob shrugged. “It works. Give it a try. The caffeine and aspirin will help your headache while the carbonation will settle your stomach.” He handed her a couple of tablets before dropping into one of the armchairs across from the coffee table.

Mandy took another sip to banish the dryness in her mouth and swallowed the tablets, washing them down with more Coke. To her surprise, her stomach did settle as the coke hit.

“What time is it?” The light coming in through the windows didn’t have that fragile, magical quality she associated with early morning, nor the gloomy, dullish cast of dusk.

She lifted the blanket and took a peek. She was still wearing the t shirt and jeans of yesterday. But her shoes were missing.

“It’s a little after two.”

Two? Mandy glanced out the window again. It had been close to noon when Alaska had showed up.

“If you’re wondering when your little mixer was, that was yesterday.” Jacob’s eyes never strayed from her face.

Yesterday? Wow. She’d slept all night, all morning, and halfway through the following afternoon. Maybe she really had been drunk.

Mandy fidgeted beneath his steady gaze. What was he thinking? Probably what a pain in the ass she was. No doubt he was ready to hand her over to someone else.

“I’m sorry you had to carry me home,” she offered in a painfully polite voice.

“It’s no hardship to have you in my arms.” He sounded sincere.

Yeah, that was some bull crap there. She started to roll her eyes, thought better of it, and settled on a scoff instead. “Right.”

His eyes glittered. She would have thought it was with annoyance, except he wasn’t scowling at her, as per his usual expression.

“We’re going to have a conversation, clear some things up. But it will have to wait until you’re feeling better, until you’re capable of focusing on what I say.” The glint in his eyes was so strong, they looked more bronze than chocolate.

Uh oh. That sounded ominous. Maybe she could stretch this reprieve into eternity.

“Best thing for a hangover is sleep.” He rose to his feet and stared down at her.

She wasn’t ready to admit to a hangover. A sudden flu would explain the symptoms, too, even if the timing was kind of conspicuous. She eased into a sitting position and waited to see how her stomach and head felt about the change in positions. They weren’t happy, but they didn’t fly into a rage about it either.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Assuming she could make it to the bathroom without her head exploding or the contents of her stomach hitting the floor.

A shower sounded worth it though. Her skin felt greasy. So did her hair. The thought of climbing into bed like this made her cringe. She gathered her legs under her and cautiously stood.

“Do you need help?” he asked, something thick and dangerous in his voice.

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