“I’m not blaming you,” she said softly.
“I know.”
“Is this what you see when you’re on a job? Guns and people getting killed?”
Logan held her gaze and answered honestly.“On many jobs, yes, there is shooting. Sometimes good people die. Sometimes the bad guy gets what he deserves.”
Courtney released his hand and stared at him, trying to understand. “How do you do it? How do you go to work when you may never come home? Aren’t you afraid you’ll end up like Richard and Anthony?”
Logan blinked at her as she voiced the thoughts that he didn’t want to contemplate. Turning away, he fisted his hands and stared off into the chaparral.
“I don’t think about that. I can’t. I’m trained damn well for what I do. And I’m paid enough to have whatever I want.”
“Like the house in the suburbs in Seattle,
