Carley “Seriously?! Stop getting hurt! I swear this is ridiculous!” I snarl at the surrounding men. “What the hell, Lock Bear? How did this happen?” I ask while preparing to stitch him up. “It was a blackout. I was triggered,” he says nervously, scratching the back of his neck. I smack his arm down so it’s out of my way while I clean around the gash on his temple. “I think that was my fault,” Storm confesses. “I thought you quit,” I say through clenched teeth, narrowing my eyes at him. “I did. Damn it, Cactus, I can’t function with all this stress! At least smoking eases it a little,” he says, frustrated. “How was I to know that cigarettes triggered Hotel? No one told me. I would have gone further from the house.” “It’s something only our group knows,” Jase states. “It’s a weakness that we don’t need broadcasting. It’s right along with Arson not handling the smell of vomit.” Lachlan and Arson need some accountability for their P.T.S.D. They are responsible for how they handle th
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