Page 11 of The Wounded Warrior

Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Huh. That’s a first. I hope he left his check.”

“A first?” Who would pick a fancy-assed function to be the time to get fucked up?

“That I’ve ever seen, yeah.” Matt shrugged. “Come on and sit up by the stage. You can be my excuse to leave when we’re ready.”

“Yeah. I’ll just threaten to hit whoever I don’t like, okay?”

Matt beamed at him like he was brilliant. “I like it. It’s a plan. This is a cowboy thing, so it ought to work.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Fab.” He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Like, eternal.

Chapter Six

Rory watched the lights in the truck spin as Lori drove him home.

“You need to go to the fucking hospital, boss.”

“No hospitals.” His tongue felt like it belonged in someone else’s body, too big, too thick. Like a dead man’s tongue, a corpse’s… “Oh, God. Pull over. Pull over right now.”

She jerked the truck to the right and screeched to a halt. He tore the door open and landed on his knees, heaving violently.

“Hospital. You have to go to the hospital.”

“No.” He slashed the air with one hand. “I need to go home. I can sleep it off.”

“If you have a concussion, you’re not supposed to sleep!”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he snarled. There was something wrong with the motherfucking beer. It had gone off, made him loopy with only a few sips. “Made a dick of myself.”

Self came out like ‘shelf’. Maybe he would pass out. That might feel better.

“Yeah, well. Come on, back in the truck.”

His head rang with crazy sounds, but Rory didn’t thinkany of them were real. He groped out, trying to find something steady.

“Boss. Seriously.”

“Take. Me. Home.” He would fire her ass, right here and now.

She clenched her jaw, studying him for a moment. “Okay, but if you’re not better when we get there, I’m taking you in.”

“Fair enough.” He’d be better if it killed him. His stomach heaved again, and he turned away from Lori, just letting loose.

“Oh, honey…”

“I’m sorry.” She’d seen him like this once before, back when they were in high school and his one date with a guy had ended in a terrible detox from Jell-O shots. He’d hoped never to put her in that situation again. “You only had one, right? A beer?”

“Half.” He gagged, breathing through his nose. “God, Lori, kill me, okay?”

“Was it bad?”

“Had to be.”

“God. Food poisoning and a concussion.” She shook her head. “I think you need to go to the ER. Please, boss? I don’t want to sit up at your place all night, nice as it is.”

“Please. Just let me get home and drink a glass of water.”

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