"Yeah, I got it," I insist, even though just standing is taking more effort than it should. My head is pounding, blood pulsing behind my eyes, heat flaring up in my swollen cheek, one eye open to barely a slit, and I don't even wanna know what I look like right now.

Stepping carefully away from him, I make my way toward the stairs, trying not to wince at the word merchandise, even though it's pretty fuckin' perfect.