(MASON'S POV)
The next day, I woke up feeling like every inch of my body had been run over by a truck, then backed up and run over again for good measure.
The alarm on my phone kept ringing like a hammer straight to my skull. I lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, breathing shallow so my cracked ribs wouldn't scream louder. The bruises on my stomach and sides throbbed in time with my heartbeat. My left eye was swollen almost shut, the skin tight and hot. My lip was split, jaw aching every time I moved it. Even the simple act of existing hurt.
I wanted to stay in bed. Curl up under the blankets, close my eyes, and pretend the world outside didn't exist. Maybe sleep until the pain faded or until I didn't have to face another day in this house. But I couldn't.
