Written in Scars(20)



Jesus, this idiot is behaving worse than a bratty kid.

“Get out of here,” Logan said firmly.

“Are you going to make me?”

Logan took a step forward. “If that’s what it’ll take, I’m more than happy to make you.”

Johan stared at him, eyes full of hate, before finally backing down. “Oh, fuck off. The pair of you. You’re welcome to the little bastard. I’ve put up with him for more than enough.”

They followed him around the front as he crunched over gravel to his car. With a last, seething look, Johan jumped behind the wheel. The engine roared to life.

“He can’t drive in that state,” Logan said, incredulously watching the car pull away. “He’ll kill himself. Or someone else.”

Sam held out his hand. “Let me have your phone. I’m calling the police before he causes some serious hurt.”

****

The police called an hour later to let Sam know Johan had been stopped and arrested for driving under the influence on the A19 motorway, south of Seaham. They were going to hold him in a cell until he was sober enough to interview. Sam gave the cops a number for a lawyer in Newcastle and asked them to call him on Johan’s behalf when they were ready to speak to him.

“You did the right thing,” Logan said, when Sam told him what had happened.

“He’ll lose his driving licence,” Sam said glumly. “Maybe even his job.”

“But not his life. You’d feel a lot worse than this if his car had come off the road. Or if he killed someone. A family with kids in the vehicle.” Logan had to take care with what he said. Anyone who got behind the wheel, high on drugs or alcohol, deserved everything the law could throw at them. Johan was an arsehole. He should count himself lucky the cops caught up with him as quickly as they did. But he couldn’t gloat in front of Sam. Whatever happened, that arsehole was still his husband. “Want me to drive you up there?”

“Where?”

“The police station. I don’t mind.”

“God no. He got himself into this. He can get himself out. I’ve arranged a lawyer for him, that’s enough. His arrest doesn’t change a thing. I’m still leaving. No, correction: I have left him.”

Later, they sat in the living room. The view from the window was inky black but Logan left the curtains open. There was no one out there to see in. He’d lit a fire in the hearth and opened a bottle of red wine. One glass each had eased some of their earlier tensions. Logan reached for the bottle on the coffee table and refilled their glasses. If Sam didn’t want a lift, they could afford to enjoy it.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said after a moment.

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this.”

“Hey, you’re not making me do anything I don’t want to.”

“It’s a mess. No doubt it’ll get messier before it’s over. I wish we’d met under different circumstances. That I’d left Johan sooner and didn’t have this complication now.”

“You can’t dwell on that,” Logan told him. “If things had been different, we might not have met at all. Don’t worry about me. I’m very happy that you’ve come into my life. Whatever I have to do, whatever you have to go through, I’ll be here for you.”

Sam chewed his upper lip and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He nodded and swallowed and finally said, “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Logan said, “we haven’t eaten since breakfast, let me fix you something.”

Taking Sam’s hand, he led him to the kitchen and sat him at the island with the bottle of wine. Logan opened the fridge to see what he had to hand. He saw bacon, eggs, cheese and cream. Perfect. He took the ingredients and a packet of dried pasta from the cupboard and set about preparing tagliatelle with carbonara sauce.

At the sound of the fridge door, Hunter appeared, as if from nowhere and brushed against Logan’s ankles with a rousing meow. Logan opened a tin of cat food and continued with their own dinner. He stole covert glances at Sam as he chopped the bacon into small pieces, and his pulse quickened. He’d known him a little over twenty-four hours – a very eventful twenty-four hours – and couldn’t stop thinking about what the future held for them. He’d been through divorce and knew the next few weeks wouldn’t be easy for Sam. They wouldn’t be impossible either. People divorced all the time. Sam had put up with more than most people would from Johan, he’d be stronger for it in the end.

Logan put the bacon into a hot pan and stirred as it sizzled.

“Smells good already,” Sam said, right behind him. His hands rested on Logan’s waist, his head against his shoulder.

A moment of quiet intimacy.

Logan relished every second. He’d been alone in this house for too long. Hunter, as lovely as the cat was, couldn’t compete with the man behind him.

“I think everything will be all right,” Sam said, putting a kiss between Logan’s shoulder. “It doesn’t feel like the end of an old life.”

“No.”

“No,” he said. “More like the start of something new.”

Smiling broadly, Logan leaned against him. “I like the sound of that.”

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