Chapter 42: Waking Up

Ripley's POV

The room seemed so bright. Too bright. She was sweltering. Had she awoken on the surface of the sun?

A cool, wet rag was draped across her forehead.

Where was Jake?

She shifted in bed. How long had she napped for?

"Rip?" Jake's voice sounded weak, nervous, distant.

"Jake," Ripley mumbled.

He was at her side in an instant. "What do you need, Rip? Are you hungry, thirsty?"

Ripley nodded weakly. "In your fridge, there's a pitcher of pink lemonade. Can you pour me a glass?"

Jake made a face but crossed the room to the fridge. His normally closely trimmed stubble had grown out a bit. There were deep purple bags under his eyes. He must have had an awful day at work.

Holding the pitcher, Jake sniffed at the contents. He growled, immediately going to the bathroom and pouring it all down the sink.

"Jake!" Ripley growled.

"Is this what happened to you?" he demanded, tossing the empty pitcher into the trash.