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Trigger lowered his hands carefully. “Is he going to eat me?”

“Not unless you touch his food.”

“I don’t want his food.”

“You ate my last protein bar in Afghanistan.”

“That was fifteen years ago.”

“Max holds grudges.”

Trigger took one slow step backward.

Max watched him.

“You talked to him about the protein bar?”

“We’ve had long drives. We've had plenty of conversations.”

Trigger looked at the empty cups on the floor.

“I liked you better when you lived in your truck.”

“You didn’t like me then either.”

“That’s not true. I complained about you with great affection.”

The door across the hall opened.

Blaze stepped out wearing plaid pajama pants and one boot.

He looked at the coffee on the wall.

“What happened?”

“Max tried to kill me,” Trigger said.

Max yawned.

Blaze looked at Trigger. “You probably deserved it.”

“I brought coffee.”

“You should have brought bacon.”

Blaze disappeared into his room and closed the door.

Trigger pointed toward it. “He’s been living upstairs again for two weeks.”

“Why?”

“He put a hole in his kitchen wall.”

“Accidentally?”

“No.”

I waited.