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“Went fine on my end too. No witnesses, no loose ends.”
“Good. I’ll call Angie and let her know her daughter is safe.”
“It’s late, Sugar. Call her in the morning,” I urge her, looking at the clock and noting it’s almost three am.
“If it was your daughter at risk?”
“I’d want to know the second the scumbag was dead,” I begrudgingly admit.
“Exactly. Now go get some sleep. Take a mini-vacay. Hell, go see Dulce for a while, but you need a break.”
“Sug—”
“No, Reese. This isn’t open for discussion. If I lose you because you burn out, I will kick your ass.”
“Sugar, you know I don’t do free time real well.”
And that’s not an exaggeration. I break out in hives.
“Look, I’m not asking for a miracle. Go to the beach, get drunk, get laid, eat rich food and recharge your batteries. That’s an order.”
“I never did take orders real well,” I warn her, but sigh when she growls. “Fine. But if you get a phone call from the police station, you better come bail me out. When I get bored, I get grumpy, and when I get grumpy, I break shit.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. Why do you think we have the Reese Peace Fund?” she jokes before hanging up. Only she’s not joking. We do have an account that is mostly there for when I need bailing out of something or damages need paying. I admit, I may or may not have a teeny-tiny anger issue. I mean, it’s not an issue for me. I fully embrace the anger, but apparently, not everyone feels the same way.
With a grumble, I toss my cell on the table and stomp over to my sofa. I throw myself down on it before rolling over and snagging the remote off the coffee table.
I turn on the sports channel and watch the end of the Anthony Joshua fight before dozing off where I am.
When I wake, it’s only long enough to grab the throw from the back of the sofa and pull it over me.
I think I’ve slept on this sofa more than I have my bed at this point, but I can’t help it. It’s like it has accepted me as one of its own, holding me softly as I sleep. It’s the most comfortable sofa in the world. I’m so attached to it that I get a lump in my throat at the thought of anything happening to it.
It might sound dumb, but when you don’t have many human attachments, sometimes the most trivial things can mean more than they should.
