Colin felt bad for his friends, he really did. But the person he worried about most was Savannah.
“You don’t want to do anything to scare her and you probably feel guilty over not keeping her safe, but pussyfooting around isn’t helping any of you,” Trace told them. “Maybe it’s time to push. Just a little.”
Logan and Max shared a look. “We need to get back to work,” Logan stated.
“Are you guys okay? You need help with anything?” Trace asked.
“We’re fine,” Max told him.
“And you wouldn’t tell us if things weren’t, right?” Colin said. “You know we’re friends, we’re here for you.”
Max slapped his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Enough with the Hallmark moment,” Logan snapped. “I’m going back to check on Savi.”
Max nodded. “I’ll come too. Thanks for the beer.”
“Wait.” Trace pulled out his phone. “I have the number of a counselor here. It was someone that was recommended when Clay died. I don’t know if she does cases like Savannah’s, but maybe it’s worth a call. Perhaps they can help you guys move forward.” He gave them the number. Logan put it into his phone with a nod of thanks.
***
Logan looked over at Max as he climbed out of his truck back at the house. “You think I should call that number?”
Max gave him a grim look then looked over at the house. “We need to talk to Savi first.”
Frustration hit Logan, eating his gut. “Why?”
Max looked startled. “Because this is her life. This happened to her. She might not want to talk to some shrink.”
Logan frowned slightly. “Just because the quack you saw when you came back—”
“I don’t want to fucking talk about that.”
Frustration filled Logan. When Max told him he was quitting the armed forces, Logan had been pleased because he’d seen his brother dying a bit more after each mission. He’d grown harder. Colder. Oh, he’d tried to hide it, but Logan could see beneath the happy, carefree show he put on for everyone else.
Logan guessed he was a simple man at heart. Give him something to do, a warm bed at night, a good meal, and a soft, sweet woman, and he was happy.
He hadn’t seen and done the shit Max had. Not that Max had told him much. But Logan had heard him talk in his sleep a bit when he’d come home. He knew it had been bad.
Max had ambition and drive. When he’d come home for good, Logan didn’t think he’d ever be the man he’d once been. He had nightmares, he’d startled easily, and he was grumpy as fuck. The psychiatrist he’d seen had been worse than useless.
Max had walked out and never gone back. Thankfully, things had gotten better with time. But Logan didn’t think time alone would help Savannah. She was hurting, and he didn’t like it.
“This therapist could help her.”
Max snorted. “Or make things fucking worse.”
“We’ll do some research on this woman before we let Savi anywhere near her. Come on, Max. You know she’s in pain. She needs help. You know more about this than I do. We need to decide what to do.”
Max shot him a look. “You know the rules. We don’t talk about that time. You agreed.”
Logan sighed. “Yeah, well, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should have forced you to talk to me.”
“Enough, Logan.”
“No, not enough. This is Savi. You treat your baggage how you want. But we don’t do that with Savannah. With our wife. We don’t put our shit on her. Especially when she’s dealing with this sort of trauma. She’s going to see that shrink.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “What if she doesn’t want to? You going to carry her there kicking and screaming?”