Chapter 23. Shane

Shane grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and hoped the cold would reduce the swelling before any of his friends saw him. The whole thing was embarrassing as it was, knowing he had let himself lose control at an event in front of almost all his clients and their boss, without them getting a load of his fucked up eye. He sighed and sank down on his plush white couch, wincing slightly when his ribs protested the movement. He leaned back and rested his head against one of the useless dove-gray throw pillows Edith had insisted on purchasing to spruce up his place. Who the hell used the term dove-gray anyway? Shane grunted in irritation. His entire head felt like it was moments away from exploding. 

He carefully placed the bag of peas on his swollen face and groaned again. That fucking guy packed one hell of a punch. It really caught Shane off guard. Not that he was a stranger to physical altercations by any means, but the accent on the guy just made him seem like th