Dallas’ POV
Dallas woke to his head feeling as though it had been split in two.
He was in his office, where he remembered staying the night before, after injecting Bree with the power suppressant—but after that, his mind was completely blank.
The ache in his temples told him that he had been drinking the night before, and heavily, if the grittiness of his eyes and dryness of his mouth were any indication.
He managed to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the couch so that he was at least upright, and put his head in his hands.
F*ck. He felt wrung out and off-kilter, like he had gone toe-to-toe with someone, and lost. He knew that that was probably impossible, but honestly, with the way that his body ached all over, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was actually what had happened.
