Chapter 163: Did I Massage the Wrong Spot?

Compared to a drunk who has already passed out, Maya Faulks, in her half-awake, half-asleep state, was a real handful. A passed-out drunk is dead weight-you just throw them over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Maya, on the other hand, wouldn't stop rambling-mumbling nonsense, jumping from topic to topic, and she kept trying to wriggle out of Walter Zorn's arms. Walter had to chase after her just to pull her back. Still, Walter got where Maya was coming from. If he were in her shoes, having...