Smith POV

Smith woke with a hell of a headache and a weight pressing down on his chest. Not a physical weight, although he swore an elephant had taken up residence on him. It was the weight of being spectacularly wrong. It was like quicksand. Every move he made just pulled him further down into the mire and trapped him. The harder he tried the quicker he sank and now he was up to his neck in it and he didn’t know how the hell he was going to climb out of it.

And that was way too fucking philosophical for this time of the morning with the size of...