“Please, shoot me,” Haley whispered that reverent prayer as she allowed herself to fall face first on the bed, only to quickly roll over onto her side when the scent of the hotel’s bedspread hit her lungs.
Deciding that it was probably in her best interests to ignore that scent, especially since it was either this or getting back in Zoe’s car and rejoining the rest of the cars turning 95 into a parking lot, she closed her eyes, sighed and prayed for morning to come.
“Did you call Jason?” Zoe asked, flopping down on the bed next to her.
“Yes,” she said, knowing that she was pouting and not really caring.
“Is he upset?”
“Yes, yes he is,” she said, sighing heavily as she opened her eyes and pushed herself up into a sitting position.
“Trevor threatened to pack the kids up and come get us,” Zoe said, giving up on lying down and joined her at the edge of the bed where they lazily swung their short legs.
“Jason threatened to lock me up,” Haley added with a fond smile for her mentally unstable husband.