Chapter 92

• Meanwhile...
• David's head throbbed. It hurt like he'd been sucker-punched by an I beam that had fallen from twenty stories up. Or perhaps it felt more like one of those chandeliers on the Titanic—or even the Titanic itself. And his mouth tasted like ass.
• He cracked one eyelid open and surveyed the damages. Usually, when he woke up in such a state, there were always one or two, maybe even three women that he needed to get rid of quickly before they got too clingy.