Because favours are priced...
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"You have an insatiable desire for trouble Camille Sanders. You'll never just be satisfied. You're like me, too wild for the world."
I laugh at the outrageousness. "You're dramatic I'll give you that Michae...
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"You're in some deep shit, huh?" I whisper, my eyes never leaving the two men. Michael's head turns my way. We were back at the warehouse. But this time, we weren't hiding.
"You have no idea." He whispers back in my ear. "Told you I was trouble." A shiver runs down my spine as I feel the smirk on his handsome face. I was finally understanding why he was warned about. But I couldn't care. I was already deep inside.
And frankly? I was already wondering how to become as warned of as him.
Just as I think that, something swings at me. A blade glints in the dim yellow light, a sharp wolfish grin flashes, red coats my fingers, and a mute scream follows.
The dream fades fast, the hazy conversation melting back into the darkness of the night as the next day's sun rays start to uncurl its fingers.
"Morning sunshine."
I groan and lift my head up to the smell of coffee. Dean stands over the edge of the bed with a content smile and a brown mug in his hands. He sets it down on a coaster atop his bedside table.
I push away the covers and sit upright, a yawn slipping through my lips. "God I'm still sleepy."
"Hey, at least you didn't die."
I give him a look. "Puking it out seemed to do the job." He grimaces at the idea. "So what happened? Where are the others?" I ask remembering Scott Fletcher's sudden interruption.
"Well, Michael's out there napping. He refused to leave without making sure you're completely fine." My eyes wander toward the open door. "Scott left a few minutes ago to get changed. I have to say this is the most amount of guests I've had in my house."
"Never threw a party in here?"
"Nope, can't give away personal locations when you're a gangster." I laugh, and rub my arms. That's when I notice my clothes. I had an oversized white tee and sweats that were too loose.
"When did I change?"
"Scott said, you got out of bed around midnight saying your clothes were too tight. So he gave you my clothes and you somehow got sleepily dressed in the bathroom."
I sigh exasperated, looking upward, "Oh good, I had some sense not to strip in front of others. I think I need a change." I say tugging the lengthy drawstrings.
He points to his bathroom and I shuffle in with the set of clothes I had asked Dean to keep. Scott didn't know about our plan, so he must have yanked open Dean's closet to stop me for stripping naked.
I wash my face and brush up before changing and coming out. Dean sits there still, his own coffee in hand. "Now would tell me what happened? Were you there till midnight? Actually wait, tell me from the start, at the bar."
"Okay alright, so it was a bit of a challenge getting him out of the bar without his lackeys watching us, so I directed them all to different places and hauled his ass out of there. We had to lift him up from the sides and drag his feet. He weighed like a 1000 pounds! Whereas you are probably underweight sweetheart."
