By Mark Chisnell
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Extra resources for The Defector
Sample text
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, until last night. Or maybe Janac knew about me the minute I got off the plane. Either way, that's neither here nor there now. I'm on my way to the airport. ’ I spat back at him. He shook his head, ‘No, I was careful. I'd give you a hundred to one he doesn't know I'm here.
I slumped into the chair and stared at the silent ocean. Thank god she hadn't been there. I took another swig out of the bottle. The pain killer was starting to help. I could remember leaving a message. Just the hotel name, I didn't know the phone number. Maybe she could find the number. Maybe she'd just turn up. Maybe she wouldn't get in touch at all. I closed my eyes and tried some deep, slow breaths. And then there was Janac. I'd seen a lot last night. Too much. I should've got out when I had the chance.
Slowly I became conscious of my mouth. I felt round my teeth with my tongue, gently dislodging pieces of food. Probably vomit. Foul. I found a toothbrush and gingerly prodded around in my mouth with the help of lots more water. When I finally sat back on the edge of the bed I was feeling quite a bit better. I let myself drop back, landing heavily as my stomach muscles weren't quite up to the task. The second time I saw the roof, daylight was streaming in. And it was hot. I was hot. I was soaked in sweat.