Page 31 of Bound To Be Mine

11

BRIGGS

The pounding on my hotel room door felt like someone was taking a sledgehammer directly to my skull. Each bang reverberated through my brain, which seemed to have turned into liquid overnight and was now sloshing painfully against the inside of my cranium.

“Go away,” I groaned, but my voice came out as a croak.

The pounding continued. Whoever was out there had zero respect for human suffering.

I cracked one eye open. The sun streaming through the window was a jagged dagger piercing my eyelids like they were made of cellophane. My skull felt cracked in half, aching and tender. I tried to sit up and immediately regretted every decision I’d made in the last twelve hours.

Although the last twelve hours were a little murky.

I was in my slacks and my white shirt was half undone and wrinkled as hell. I had one shoe on. The foot without the shoe was also missing a sock.

For fuck’s sake, what the hell happened last night?

The pounding intensified.

“I’m coming,” I called out, which was a mistake because speaking made my head throb even harder.

I lurched toward the door. My legs didn’t want to cooperate. My feet felt like I was wearing wooden blocks. The room tilted at odd angles. My stomach churned ominously.

I yanked open the door, squinting against the hallway light.

Dash stood there, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary. He was wearing sunglasses and holding two cups of coffee, looking disgustingly chipper for whatever ungodly hour it was.

“Good morning, sunshine!” he said, way too loudly.

“Shut up,” I muttered, turning away from him. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your assistant, Jasmine.”

“She’s fired,” I said with a groan.

He laughed. “You and Adrian always jumping to the firing.”

“Why are you here? What time is it? Is that coffee?”

He followed me into the room uninvited. “You’re trending, big brother.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked sourly.

“Congratulations.” He handed me one of the coffees. “I’m a little annoyed I didn’t get an invitation, but sometimes love can’t wait, I suppose.”

I stared at him. My brain was moving like molasses. Nothing he was saying made any sense. “What are you talking about, Dash? I’m too hungover for riddles.”

Dash grabbed my hand and held it up in front of my face, pointing at something shiny on my finger.

A ring.

A wedding ring.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“You got married, dumbass,” Dash said, still grinning. “It’s all over social media.”

I stared at the ring. Gold band. Simple. Definitely not something I owned yesterday. Nor was it anything I would have purposely chosen for myself. My stomach lurched violently.