13
WHEN Sawyer woke up face down in his bed, he was a little boy again. The smell of alcohol permeated the air, and he could hear voices arguing downstairs. Just like when his father used to rail against his alcoholic mother for getting too sloppy at one of his Navy functions. He could still easily remember his father yelling at his mother before he sent her away to the first rehab center. Saying that he loved Kate, he really did, but he’d just been appointed to a four-star post by the President at the relatively young age of thirty-nine. He already had high hopes for his political future after serving out his four-year term and he couldn’t let her go on like this.
There was no drunken weeping this time, but the yelling still sounded very familiar.
Except Sawyer wasn’t a boy anymore. Fo
