Chapter 33

(Bryson's Point of View)

Right now, my head hurts like hell.

It feels like thousands of Anvils dropped on my head at one go.

If this is what Willy Coyote felt when that Anvil dropped on him, then, I feel you bud. Totally feel you.

Groaning, I peeled my eyes slowly, blinking furiously to get rid of blurriness. As my vision went back to focus, I found out I was tied to a chair, and more importantly, I was in a room - a very dirty one at that; the walls had grime on it, there was a small window to the far left of the room, across the window was a door with its paint peeling due to aging, and a small, dilapidated table was pushed back to the wall near the window.

'Where the hell am I?' I thought, very confused.

And then, just like I had been jolted by lightning, I remembered being whacked hard in the head... and that voice...

Damn it! That bitch Ciara!

When will she get the hint that I don't want anything to do with her now? How much will it take for me to feed sense into that psychotic b