Mason

Fifteen minutes later, Alyssa is violently throwing up in the bathroom. She's hunched over the toilet, trembling with every heave, while Niko holds her hair back. I can hear it all too clearly, and my stomach twists in response.

I inch away from the door, swallowing down the bile rising in my own throat. I can deal with blood and guts; shit, I've seen enough of that to last a lifetime. But vomit? That's where I draw the line.

King is sitting in the armchair, watching ...