In Deaths Grip

Max ran in the room soaking wet, he stood by the bed and shook hard, getting me and Bermuda wet.
"Nice going, Max." Bermuda mumbled. He hopped off the bed and walked to the bathroom, he grabbed a towel and brought it back, tossing it over Max. He knelt down and dried the dog, struggling to keep him still.
When he was done they both hopped on the bed. Max licked my face several times, I pushed him away, "Hey, hey, stop that, I've seen where that tongue has been."
Severino ran in, his shirt and pants wet.
"Boss, I'm sorry. He just ran off!"
"It's okay," I said.
"Wow, you're hair got long."
"I guess not cutting it for almost two years will do that."
"Yeah, sorry," He said awkwardly.
"You can cut it for me later."
"Yeah, we're kind of busy now." Bermuda said. I chuckled.
"What were you doing?" Severino asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bermuda opened his mouth to talk, but I interrupted him, "Nothing. Order some pizza, I'm hungry."
Severino rolled his eyes, "No can do. They don't deliver to secret safe houses."
"Then go and pick it up, I've had nothing but mush for a while."
"I'll go have the cook make some." He said, walking out of the room.
Bermuda gave me a look. I shrugged, "I'll tell them at the party."
"The party isn't until you're healed! That'll be in six weeks or something," He complained.
I moved closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder.
"Although, if I get this kind of compensation, it might be worth it." He muttered, putting an arm around me.