Chapter 1

Son of a bitch.

I feel like I've just run a marathon. I can barely stand to stretch my legs and arms; my muscles are tight as a nun’s sphincter.

My limbs slide over the memory foam mattress, slipping over the sweat-soaked sheets. When I try to get up, the bedding isn't willing to let me go. I'm drenched in a veil of sweat, the world beneath the blankets humid and damp. I wipe some droplets from my forehead, probably doing more harm than good, as I think back to the dream.

I can remember a house, a little girl, and--

Oh, shit!

I bolt out of bed. I only have seconds to reach the bathroom. I nearly kick the door down as I hurry inside, the sudden motion only hastening the sickness. With barely...

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