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“Yeah?” Chad grunted.
“How did you do it?”
“Uh …”
“When you came home,” Logan clarified.
Chad had been out of the military for years, but he’d been in spec ops, too. Logan knew Chad had seen some shit, but he seemed to have a life now. He was functioning all right. At least better than Logan was. He had a wife he loved and who loved him back. They had a daughter. Chad didn’t seem plagued by memories like Logan was.
Logan cleared his throat and continued. “When you came home, how did you—”
Chad cut in when Logan floundered again. “Hang on, man. I’ll be right there.”
Logan stared out the window until he heard Chad open the door behind him. Chad didn’t hesitate. He walked in and handed Logan a business card for a counselor.Ernie Green.
“This guy,” Chad said, pointing to the card. “Go see him. He’s a veteran, and he’s become a good friend over the years. He gets it. It doesn’t fix everything right away, but he can help.”
Logan nodded and Chad turned without another word and left the room.
Logan looked down at the card and took another one of those deep breaths he’d seemed to be needing a lot of lately. Sam’s words echoed in his head:What are you doing about it?
He lifted his phone and dialed the number.
Chapter 9
Logan walked into the office four days later feeling just a bit better than he probably had in all his time since his return to civilian status. It had still been a pretty rough drive into the office, but since he was now coming in at a little more normal time of day, he’d hit some traffic.
But he hadn’t broken into a cold sweat sitting in that traffic. He’d handled it. Sure, his grip on the steering wheel had been tighter than a pilot’s ass in a tailspin, but he hadn’t been in a full-blown panic.
He didn’t know if it was the two counseling sessions he’d had in four days or what, but on the off chance it was, he’d be keeping those appointments.
Ernie Green had turned out to be maybe fifteen years older than Logan, a veteran who’d served in Desert Storm. He was so freaking laid-back, he actually managed to get Logan talking. And that was something Logan hadn’t thought anyone would be able to do.
During the first session, Ernie just smiled amiably at Logan and said, “So, what do you feel like doing?”
Logan had looked around at the pool table, the couches, the small refrigerator and the multiple old-school pinball machines that filled the room before answering.
“I thought we were supposed to talk,” Logan said as his gaze came back around to the man in front of him.
“Sure,” Ernie said. “We can talk.” He walked to one of the couches and sat, his khaki pants slipping up to show the barest snippet of a prosthesis on each leg. Logan hadn’t realized he’d been frowning at the man’s ankles until Ernie called him on it.
“Desert Storm. IED. Lost ’em both below the knee.” He said all this with an easy smile that suggested he didn’t give a shit if anyone questioned him about his legs.
Logan nodded before sitting on the other couch. “So, how does this work? I tell you my problems and you tell me how to fix them?”
“Shit,” Ernie answered with a grunt as he reached into the fridge and pulled two bottles of water out, tossing one to Logan and opening the other. He took a long swallow before continuing. “You can tell me your grocery list if you feel like it. You’re the boss in here. We can play pool, shoot the shit, or sit here and stare at each other.”
Logan schooled his face and eyed the man. If anyone other than Chad Thompson had told him to come see this guy, he likely would have walked out the door.
But Logan trusted Chad. Completely. If Chad said he needed this guy, he’d stick around long enough to give him a shot. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give the guy some shit.
“I thought you were supposed to be a licensed therapist or something. Shouldn’t you be trying to help me?”
“Eh, all right. You want to play it that way, we can. Tell me about one of the guys who didn’t come home. Out of all the guys you wish you could bring back, out of all the men you would gladly flush your own life down the toilet for, simply for the glimmer of a shot at bringing him back. The guy who was worth all of your lives put together, the whole effing team of you would have thrown yourselves on a grenade to bring this guy—”
“All right! I got it. I got it.” Logan sat and stared open-mouthed. Would it be inappropriate to tell this guy he changed his mind and wanted to play pool?
The silence dragged on. After several long moments, Ernie slapped his hands on the arms of his chair and shoved himself up to his feet. “Pool it is, then!”
