doubts with a torrent of strength and conviction.
If only I could drown my own.
10
Savannah
“You look like hell,” Casey observed, as we drove through the Indies that
evening.
“Thanks. Between the nightmares and demon attacks and hunting down
the asshole trying to kill me, I haven’t had a chance to do cucumber therapy
on my eyes.”
He turned right, into an old parking lot. “Hey, I get it. Seeing that thing
last night messed me up. Your brain’s got to be scrambled eggs by now.
What you need is a stiff drink, and then two or three more.”
“What I need is a bed, some sleeping pills, and a night of dreams without
evil creeps breaking into them.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Casey said almost convincingly. “First, we
do my plan, and then you do yours. And since your bed has a circle of
protection, you’ll be able to sleep off the hangover peacefully. The only
dudes popping up in your dreams will be the ones you put there.”
“I’m hoping for a total of none.”
He glanced over at me with a cocky expression on his face. “None or just
one?”
Fucker.
I ignored him and looked out the window. As gorgeous as Jaxson was, I
did not want him in my dreams. I had enough on my plate as it was, and I
didn’t need to be fantasizing over the domineering alpha-hole whom I
couldn’t have even if I’d wanted him.
The fading light reflected off the buildings across the lake as we pulled
into the poorly maintained parking lot. It was packed with cars, and I could
feel the bass of the music pumping through the trees in the park to our right.
“What is this place, anyway?” I asked.