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Summary
He’d told himself several months ago that serving Price in some capacity, as his subordinate, as his sergeant, was enough for his aching heart. But it wasn’t. It never would be. Fuck. He wished he’d had something stronger than beer.
‘Sorry to hear that, boss,’ he ventured, tacking the boss on the end like an offering. He was still his dog. His sergeant. His shadow.
When he looked back up Price had stopped looking at the shrub, and was staring at him instead.
Even after serving under Price for years Gaz has never stopped yearning for him. He wonders what it will take for him to finally crack.
He’s about to get his answer.
Series
- Part 2 of mad dogs and Englishmen