My head is throbbing. It hurts so badly.
Everything looked kind of smeared—like the world had been rubbed with the side of a thumb. Nothing was sharp. I could see, but not really. Shapes blurred, colors bled together, and every time I blinked, it felt like I was falling in and out of focus.
What even happened?
Emiliano strangled Damian.
I kissed him to make him let go.
Tom began to say something about a bounty.
The grenade.
A flash of light, a sound so loud it punched straight through my chest, and then the whole room was flying apart.
The coffee table shattered instantly, chunks of wood and glass shooting across the room. The couch flipped like it weighed nothing, cushions torn open mid-air. Smoke filled the space so fast I couldn't see past my own hands. Everything smelled like heat and dust and something burning.
Walls cracked. Windows blew out. The blast sucked the air out of the room, then threw it back like a slap.
Did I die?
No.
