Hidden Agendas

Declan

Next morning

My skull felt like it had personally been used as a puck. Thrown back to back by hockey sticks.

I groaned into the pillow, and that alone set off some kind of chain reaction down my spine, because apparently even groaning required muscles that hated me now.

My hand was worse. It had its own pulse at this point, throbbing in time with my head.

“ Argghh.“ I groaned, putting a