Chapter 12
Wren fell into a fitful sleep on the floor at the foot of Rufus’s bed. Something simply did not feel right about getting into his own bed when he knew Rufus was out there somewhere, doing God only knew what, exposing himself to dangers Wren didn’t want to entertain.
So he lay next to Rufus’s duffel, curling his arms around it as though it were the man himself, and let himself slide off into an uncomfortable, nightmare-plagued sleep.
In his dreams he watched Rufus moving through dark city streets and alleys. Dumpsters, trash, and rats dogged his feet, which appeared to be weighted down, the soles sticking to the pavement. Wren didn’t feel his own presence as part of the scene he was witnessing and could hear nothing, save for the tortured, sped-up beating of Rufus’s heart. In
