Chapter 17
In the hot afternoon sun, Pasha was drunk, very drunk. He was no stranger to drinking, but always maintained self-control. The last time he was this drunk was one night in Sweden, trying to drink Lilie out of his memory.
The bastards shot Seth? It was a f*****g execution…cold-blooded murder.
He tipped the remaining bottle of wine, drinking the last drops and dregs. A stain of the harsh peasant’s wine spread over the front of his undershirt. Pasha, sleeveless in the hot sun, dropped the bottle alongside two other empty bottles. He just stared at them, his mind lost in confusion and betrayal. He sought out seclusion, away from the resting comrades in the camp.
Some whispered on the edge of his consciousness as they tried offering consolation.
“f**k off!”
They took that advic
