Written in Scars(19)
When there was no reply, he stooped lower to gaze through the flap. He saw a smart hall and a fancy wooden staircase. A large ginger cat glowered at him from the middle of the floor and hissed a warning. Johan’s eyes flitted around the hall, searching for anything familiar, a photograph, a jacket on the hanger, anything to give him a clue who owned this place.
Then he saw it. At the bottom of the stairs, pushed against the wall: Sam’s suitcase.
“What the fuck?”
The little bastard was here all right. So where was he hiding?
With rage mounting inside, Johan stood up and pounded on the door.
Sam was making a fool of him, and for that, he would pay dearly.
****
Though the sun still shone, it had lost its earlier warmth, and the breeze that came off the North Sea had a definite chill to it. Logan didn’t feel the cold. The last hour, walking along the coastal path with Sam had been exhilarating. He’d walked the route more times than he could remember since buying the cottage, but it had never been as special as this. Not even that very first time, when the views from up high, and the sound of the water on the rocks below were brand new. Being with Sam made it a whole new experience, one he didn’t want to end.
The sky had darkened and was now almost the exact same shade of indigo as the sea.
“We should get back,” Logan said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I’m freezing.” His light weight jacket would be no protection against the strengthening Northern breeze.
“You can borrow a sweater at the cottage, though I can think of a better way to warm you up.” Logan took his hand. It was a simple, unselfconscious gesture, and Sam didn’t pull away.
Logan couldn’t imagine what was going through the younger man’s head. He must be in turmoil. However bad things had gotten between him and Johan, walking out after all that time wouldn’t be easy. Sam seemed to be dealing with the situation, but Logan didn’t really know. It could be a long time before Sam was ready to start a new relationship. Logan was prepared to wait.
One thing he was sure above everything else: Sam was worth it. However long he took to get over Johan, Logan would be there, patiently waiting.
He squeezed Sam’s hand as they approached the rear of the cottage. Sam squeezed back and grinned at him.
“I’ve only every lived in the city,” Sam said. “Everything is so different out here.”
“It’s not that far out,” Logan assured him. “You saw how short the drive from Newcastle is. And Durham city is even closer. Sunderland too. This isn’t the back of beyond you know.”
Sam laughed. “I like it. It’s just different, that’s all.”
Logan hoped he was telling the truth. No reason for him not to, but he wanted Sam to spend a lot more time here. He wanted him to stay, however cautiously he had to play it.
As they approached the house, a figure in a dark coat, stormed around the corner. The man might have been good-looking, but his smooth, sun-tanned face was twisted in an ugly contortion of rage.
Logan had no doubt: this was Johan.
“Shit,” Sam said.
“Very fucking cosy,” Johan sneered. “A little country hideaway. Perfect for a dirty weekend. So, how long has this been going on?”
This guy was completely wired. It was more than just emotion or anger, Logan recognized the black, dilated pupils of a drug addict. Sam hadn’t been exaggerating, Johan was as high as a kite.
“What are you doing?” Sam said angrily. “Go home, Johan, you’ve no business here.”
“You’re my business and you’re coming with me,” Johan shouted, stepping forward.
“No, I’m not, I told you before, we’re finished, and I mean it. How the hell did you find me?”
“I tracked your phone, idiot.”
Sam patted his pockets. “I must have left it in the house,” he said to Logan.
“Come on,” Johan shouted. “Home.”
Logan had heard enough. “Do you want to talk to him?” he asked Sam.
Sam shook his head. “Not when he’s this high.”
“He doesn’t want to speak to you,” he said firmly, sounding calmer than he felt. “And this is private land, so you can take yourself out the same way you came in.”
“Who’s this dickhead?” Johan narrowed his eyes, staring at him. “Oh, right, you’re the guy from TV. Big-fucking-deal. I’m supposed to believe you two only met last night? Is that it? A likely fucking story.”
“Believe what you want arsehole. Just get the hell off my land.”
Johan clenched his fists and inflated his chest, making himself bigger. “Your land. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? You stuck up cunt.”
“I’m talking to a hot mess. Do you know the state you’re in? Go home and straighten yourself out.”
Johan turned towards Sam. “Are you going to let this cunt talk to me like that? I’m your fucking husband.”
“Then stop behaving like a dick,” Sam implored. “I don’t know why you followed me. You’ve had no interest in me for years. I meant what I said: we’re over. Finished. You should be pleased. Now you can screw around as much as you want.”
“That’s rich coming from you and him,” he screamed.