13
Ryan didn’t sleep well. Back on the frontline, he could sleep anytime, anywhere, but out here in the real world, he found himself pacing more nights than he cared to count. And it didn’t help getting woken up by the sound of a whole lot of glass breaking once he finally did manage to get to sleep. That brought with it a whole new problem of not being able to breathe, thinking he was about to die and not having a single thing to defend himself with.
It took a while to remember where he was. Lying on the lumpy bed in Nate’s bedroom. The bed had belonged to his mother when she still lived here, and smelled of damp, old sweat and burning wood. The whole house smelled like that, along with trash left to sit too long, unwashed dog and just plain old sadness.
But by the time he put all that
