4. Sawyer

By the time Easton and I got back from the bombsite, I was fit for nothing more than crashing into the bunkhouse. “Looks like we missed a party, wasn’t it meant to be a pyre?” Easton grimaced, stepping over abandoned bottles of whisky and tequila outside Riley’s room.

He’s got some newbies he’s meant to be mentoring. Doesn’t seem like much of that is going on.

I’ll raise it to Cillian, making a mental note for the morning.

I glare at Rileys closed door. “Bet it was that fucking card game again. Want some food?” gesturing to the two wrapped plates waiting on the counter.

“Yes please, I’m starved. Did you know stress, fear makes you hungrier? You send your body into fight or flight it fucks with your blood sugar.”

I don’t know what he’s trying to say. He’s chunky because he’s greedy. Not because he’s battling untold levels of mortal danger on a daily basis. He notices my amusement and laughs.

“You know what I mean. I bet you ate less during the war. Anyways, you know I much