“—breaking down doors like some kinda hooligan,” Percy groused.
Ryan examined the door frame. Not as bad as it could’ve been, all things considered. “I thought you were in trouble.”
“Trouble? What the hell kind of trouble would I be in in my own house?”
Ryan didn’t point out that he’d fallen and could’ve broken a hip. That wasn’t a productive way to start that whole conversation. “My mistake. I’ll fix it. Do you have wood glue and some clamps?”
“In the garage.”
The garage was one step away from being an episode of Hoarders. It took Ryan nearly twenty minutes of searching around the stacks of boxes and jumble of tools before he found what he wanted. That in and of itself was a small miracle. Clearly, Percy needed help with some kind of clean out. If he fell out here, he might get burie
