A Criminal's Kiss

Chapter 7

When I woke up the next morning I felt awful, my head hurt and there was a foul taste in my mouth. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly eyes tried to ignore the burning feeling in my stomach. My head throbbed painfully as if I had been hit on the head by a baseball bat, it almost hurt to try and think.

I opened my eyes again and my eyes widened when I took in the sight before me.

Motionless bodies were sprawled on the floor and on the furniture, Jake was snoring loudly, his mouth wide open, Aaron and Marcus were snuggled up together on the couch and I couldn't help but snigger when I saw that they were holding hands.

I, on the other hand, was squashed between Elliot and somebody else I couldn't recognize, I looked around for Blake but couldn't see him.

As if he had read my mind, Blake sauntered in and noticed me, "I see you're awake," he commented.

I rolled my eyes, "Obviously."

"So how come you were up so early?" I asked.

Blake looked slightly uncomfortable, "I...err, I had to make an important call." I shrugged and nodded, excepting it as a valid answer.

I tried to wriggle out from between Elliot and the stranger but to my annoyance I found that I was stuck.

Blake must have noticed that I was having trouble getting off the couch because he made his way over and stuck his hand out. I stared at it before giving him my hand; he automatically yanked me to my feet, making me stumble. Blake grabbed me by the elbow and steadied me, but I yanked my elbow back quickly.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, I just have a fucking huge hangover."

Blake chuckled, "You want some coffee?"

I stared at him in shock for a moment, Blake Reynolds; the big badass gang leader was asking me for coffee? Did he even know how to make coffee?

Before I could stop myself the words were out of my mouth, "Do you even know how to make coffee?"

Blake raised an eyebrow at me, "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?

"I don’t know, because you’re the dickhead that goes on killing sprees for fun."

“I don’t go on killing sprees for fun, it’s my job.”

"Whatever works for you,” I said shrugging, “Can I get some coffee now?”

“Don’t give me orders, it won’t end well,” Blake said narrowing his eyes.

I raised an eyebrow, “Don’t threaten me, it won’t end well.”

“Touché.”

“Kitchen’s this way,” I began walking, not caring if he was following or not.

I sat down and nodded at the fridge, “Milk’s in there.”

I watched Blake search the fridge and when he emerged, milk in hand, I spoke.

"Blake? Can I ask you something?"

He turned around and shrugged, "Sure."

I looked up and met his curious gaze, "Why are you here? Why are you in Vegas with Elliot?"

I watched as an unreadable expression crossed his face ran, but it was quickly replaced by a scowl.

"Business."

I frowned in confusion, "Business?" I repeated.

"Gang business."

“What kind of gang business?” I prodded.