Groaning, I roll toward the alarm clock and slap it.
My eyelids feel like they’ve been cemented shut. Prying them open takes a Herculean effort. Unable to force my limbs into action, I lay in bed as memories of yesterday assault me.
Roman is an undercover police officer.
Never in a million years could I have foreseen this. If anything, I’d wondered if he worked for the Russians.
But the police?
The Chicago PD?
No. I feel completely blindsided by the revelation. What am I going to do? Acknowledging what a mess this situation is makes me burrow deeper under the covers, wishing I could stay in bed for the rest of the day. Maybe the next few. I had a difficult time falling asleep after getting home because my mind wouldn’t click off. As a result, I feel tired and irritable.
I would love to call in sick, but can’t.