He didn’t stop her as she brought up his contacts and sent a text to Ernie.
It’s Samantha Page. Logan is at my house. Please come.
She typed in her address, hit send, and tossed the phone back down, walking out of the room without a word.
She heard him curse behind her, so presumably he’d read the text, but he didn’t follow her. She just hoped he didn’t tell Ernie not to come. Logan needed a lifeline right now and she’d get it for him.
Sam took the stairs two at a time and went to cook dinner. Cooking relaxed her, and Chad and Zach had been happy to wolf down huge quantities of food over the last two days. Maybe if she cooked up a storm and got a little something in her stomach, she could sleep for just a few hours.
She laughed to herself, but there wasn’t any mirth in the gesture. Maybe she needed to talk to Ernie. Because every time she closed her eyes, she saw the man who’d held her down and cut her. She heard the sick laughter as he’d watched her struggle, listened to her cries, and saw her blood spill out of her breasts.
She smelled him, tasted the fear in her mouth and the bile that raced up her throat. She felt the helplessness all over again, and all she wanted was to curl up and make the images, the memories, go away.
Yeah. Maybe she needed Ernie as much as Logan did.
Logan could have texted Ernie and told him not to come, but he didn’t. He knew Sam and she wouldn’t give up, so he might as well appease her, for now. He’d let Ernie come, talk to him a bit, then they’d make sure Sam was safe and he’d move on. Out of her life.
He would go upstairs later and find out what she’d meant when she’d said she had figured out who was after her. Right now, he needed a minute to get his shit together. He needed to spackle his fucked-up walls back together. That woman just kept knocking away at them and if he stayed up there with her, she’d have them down before he knew what happened.
She looked so fragile, it scared the crap out of him. Sam wasn’t a fragile woman. She was tough as hell. She had her insecurities. Who didn’t? But, right now, she looked worn out at the seams. He wanted to reach out and pull her in tight, wrap her up in his arms and not let another soul near her until … well, until ever.
And that scared the crap out of him. So, he shoved her away. She said she couldn’t sleep without him in the house? Fine, he’d be in the house. But, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—be with her.
Logan ran his thumb over the grip of his gun, letting the familiar feel of it soothe him. How messed up was he that his gun had a calming effect on him? His body tensed when a knock sounded on the front door. He drew himself up, gun in hand at his side, coming out into the front hall and glancing up the staircase to see that Chad stood guard, watching his back.
“It’s Ernie,” Chad called down and Logan figured Chad had seen him approach through the kitchen window upstairs.
He still used caution when opening the door, checking behind Ernie to be sure no one else lingered. The reporters seemed to have given up, at least for the day.
Logan looked down to see a leashed dog by Ernie’s side. Some kind of lab mix, by the look of it. The yellow dog stared calmly back at Logan. Leave it to Ernie to have the world’s calmest dog.
“Here.” Ernie thrust the leash into Logan’s hand. “Hold him for me.”
Logan looked down at the leash and took a few steps back. The dog followed him. He supposed that made sense since he was holding its leash, but his steps had been more of an attempt to get away than an attempt to get the dog to follow him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like dogs. He did, actually. He just wasn’t at all interested in engaging with anything or anyone right now. And that included Ernie and his dog. Sam invited him over. She could hang out with him.
“Sam’s upstairs,” Logan said.
Ernie didn’t answer him. He called up to Chad. “Will you grab the bag from the back of my truck and bring it in. Parked outside, white Ford.”
Logan watched as Chad went out and lifted something from the back of Ernie’s truck. A heavy bag for boxing.
What the hell was Ernie up to now?
“What are you doing?” Logan asked as he stepped further back.
Ernie stepped in and locked the door behind Chad, and then made a motioning movement with his head. “Move, that thing’s freaking heavy. You gonna make your buddy carry this shit around all night or get out of his way?”
Logan stepped aside, the dog coming with him, but he turned to glare at Ernie.
Ernie ignored him and walked into the basement room Logan had intended to take over as his own while he needed to be here. By now, Sam and Zach had come down the stairs.
Zach introduced Sam to Ernie, who greeted her like they were long-lost friends.
Ernie looked up at the ceiling. “You got a drill, Sam?”
Adding to Logan’s annoyance, she nodded and walked into the utility room that housed the hot water heater and furnace and came back with a large drill case in one hand and a tool box in another.
“Take whatever you need.” She put the cases down and came over to pet the dog, who greedily pushed into her arms for more. “What’s your dog’s name?”
Ernie didn’t bat an eye as he opened the drill case, sorting through bits for the right size. “His name is Billy, but he’s not my dog.”
“Whose dog is he?”
Logan got a weird twisty feeling in his gut at Sam’s question.
Oh, hell no. He wouldn’t.
“He’s Logan’s.”
He did.
“No, he’s not,” Logan said, dropping the leash and taking a step away from both Sam and the dog.
The dog followed Logan, pressing to Logan’s left side and shoving his head up under his hand.
“Sure he is,” Ernie said, “just look at him.” Ernie waved a hand at Logan and the dog, and damned if that dog didn’t press even further into Logan’s leg.
“No. He’s not.”
Sam started to laugh and Logan’s scowl only made her laugh harder.
Ernie was knocking on the low basement ceiling with his fist, and Chad joined in, searching for a beam to hang the bag on. They nodded at each other a few times, and Ernie marked a spot with a pencil. As Ernie turned the chuck to fix the bit into place on the drill, he glanced up at Logan.
“Yeah, he’s your new service dog. You got lucky. He was working with another veteran nearby but for a number of reasons, the match wasn’t the right fit. The guy’s kid is allergic to him. The service dog organization I work with is going to get him a poodle instead. There’s usually a one year or longer wait for a dog. I talked them into letting you have Billy since you’re in the area. That way, they don’t need to ship him back to Massachusetts. You will need to attend training with him, but that can wait for a while.”
Chad manned the drill and began setting up the heavy bag, and Logan remembered Ernie and Chad had been friends. Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen Ernie as his counselor after all.
Logan yelled over the noise. “I don’t need a service dog. I don’t need any of this. I need you all to get the hell out and leave me alone.”
He saw Sam flinch, but he just kept going. He started to pace along one wall of the room, turning when he hit the end to go back to the other wall. Back and forth, walking to nowhere and getting there fast. He needed to get out of here. He needed gone. Now.