Breakdown by Jack L. Pyke Read Free Book Online Page B

else.
    When I didn’t answer, footsteps faded away from the bed.
    Good.
    Sleep came eventually, and I let it creep up.

    “Now I insist you get up, Jack. You don’t, I’m going cattle tipping, but we’re in the middle of London, so I’ll take what I can.”
    I pulled the cover off my head to see Craig. “Don’t you have a home to fuck up?”
    Craig flashed his eyes. “I prefer mattress tipping, stems from younger days of tank tipping.”
    “Younger days, you’re not that much older than me.”
    “I’m forty.”
    “Bollocks.” I’d put him at just a few years older.
    “And youth compliments like that won’t get you special favours, y’know.”
    “Wasn’t a compliment, just means you’ve had an easy career compared to your counterparts. Do a lot of hiding out in the field, hmmm?” I said easing up. “And I’m still not hungry.”
    “You sure?” Craig was wincing. “Trust me, do-it-yourself with eating is the easier option in here.”
    “You and whose army?” I said, raising a brow.
    “I have friends.” Craig gave me the finger with both hands. “Meet
fuck
and
you
here.”
    “Huh?” I choked a chuckle, surprising myself. “That the best of the MC bedside manner on display there?”
    Craig winked over. “Just establishing our nurse-patient boundaries. Now you’ve met
fuck
and
you
, let me introduce their cousins—” The finger came at me again, twice. “—
or
and
else
.”
    “They look more like twins to me.”
    “Just seeing if you’re paying attention.”
    “And if I’m not?”
    Folding his arms, Craig chuckled. “We tie nice chaps like you down, drug ’em up, wait for the meds to kick in, then ship ’em out. Dr. Halliday and his team like to ensure patients are given the best—”
    “Drugs?”
    “Care,” finished Craig, shaking his head at me. “How was your,” he counted on his fingers, “third night’s sleep?”
    Back to paid business. “Fucking peachy.”
    “I’m not your enemy here, mate.”
    “Not your mate. And you? Just the draft excluder keeping the door locked, hmm? I was on fucking fifteen minute checks last night.” I rubbed at my head. “S’not like I’ve added suicide to my shit-list over the last seven weeks.”
    “But you’ve had issues sleeping?” He seemed to be counting dosages in his eyes. “Let me know if you need something stronger.”
    “I need work.”
    Craig raised a brow. “A mechanic, right? Logistics are a godsend in the Army. You own your business?”
    “Two.”
    “Three with the dojo,” chimed in Craig. “What about your dad? Does mechanics run in your family?”
    I frowned. “Mostly. My mother is more the tech side.”
    There was a frown there, a brief look away, but Christ knows if I could understand why. “Do you get that Italian look from her side?” said Craig, tilting his head slightly, “I didn’t see it in your father.”
    “Hmmm.” I didn’t add a nod.
    “I bet it’s fun when you’re all together; talk must be... fascinating.”
    “You’re not into logistics, right?”
    “Petrol goes in one end, I pay for it another,” said Craig. “It’s about as adventurous as I get.”
    “You’d be surprised how many men admit to that.” Jan came to mind and I frowned, looking away and needing something else to focus on.
    “How are things at work in general?”

    Giving a smile down at my soup, I put the lid back on and looked at my manager Steve. “You know I’ve been on no fucking holiday, Ste.” Things fell pretty quiet very quickly. “Get a nice call off Gray this morning, did we?”
    “Jack—”
    I pinned my manager up against the blinds. “How long have you been playing eye-spy for him?” I asked quietly. “What else have you told him over the past eleven years, hmmm?” The thumb tracing his jaw dug into his throat, making it hard for him to swallow.

    “Jack,” said Craig, quietly. “Do you know you’re scratching at your hip?”
    I glanced down. Fresh blood stained just below the