Wanted For Pleasure: vol 2

Chapter 29: those people

"We are sure to get opportunities as we show ourselves capable of being trusted."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

I wake up from a dream — a nightmare, really — except it's more of a flashback.

A cough stops me from thinking about it anymore because it's so violent it makes my head throb.

"Goddamn it." I grumble, rubbing my head.

I see the time, it's after ten in the morning. We slept in.

"Morgan," I croak, shaking her by the hip. "baby, wake up."

She doesn't budge at first so I shake her body again and peel back the covers on her body.

"Stop!" she groans, trying to get the blanket back but I keep it in my hand.

"Get up, we have to go to brunch." I speak low because my throat hurts after a night of yelling. Err, I assume I was yelling, probably shout-singing. The last thing I remember is playing football with the guys. That's kind of concerning, how much did I have to drink?

I rub the sleepiness from my eyes and fold over my knees, complaining about this apparent hangover.
The last thing I want is to puke and be out of it during brunch with Russ and everyone else.

I rub Morgan's leg, it's soft to the touch, just to get her up and it works this time. She yawns small and then sits up, picking the corners of her eyes.

"God, what time is it?" She grumbles, tired or hungover, too.

"Late." I snarl. This makes Morgan tilt her head at me and stare frankly.

"What?"

She doesn't say anything, only shakes her head and jolts out of bed.

I stand, too, and stretch. "My back is killing me; what did you do to me last night?"

Morgan giggles across the room. "I can ask you the same thing."

I smile at her lazily and then look down at the bed. I gasp. The sheets have blood on them.

What the hell? I wince at the sting of the breeze hitting my back.

"The fuck?" I curse under my breath, trying to reach my back, where the pain is coming from.

Morgan speaks up, walking towards my body. "Turn around, let me see."

I oblige and what she sees is shocking, enough to make her eyes as large as saucers and lip quiver.

"I didn't do that." Her voice trembles as she stumbles backwards.

"What, do what? What is it?" I fret, stomping to the full body mirror against the wall.

I rotate so I can see my backside and am left almost petrified at first sight.

"It looks like someone carved you." Morgan says, snapping a picture.

I suck my teeth. "Someone? You mean you?"

She looks at me, almost offended. "Babe, I didn't do that."

"Morgan, you always scratch my back with those long ass nails."

"Never like that! Chris, you're literally bleeding. Like, a layer of skin is gone; look at my nails, they're clean." She flashes her nails to me and shows that none of my skin is under them. Thankfully, but still.