Of course, I’d been at the bar much later than I’d planned, and it was now dark. I knew that Eric was outside waiting for me, and I wanted more than anything to get up and foist the problem of Terry on someone else, but I simply couldn’t. What he’d done for me had damaged Terry even more, and I had no way to pay him back. It didn’t bother me that he’d been keeping track of me—okay, spying on me—for Eric before Eric was my lover, or for my great-grandfather. It hadn’t done me any harm. Since I knew Terry, I knew there had to have been pressure involved, of one kind or another.

Sam and I helped Terry to his feet, and we began to move, going down the hall that led to the back of the bar and across the employee parking lot to Sam’s trailer.

“They promised they wouldn’t let nothing happen to my dog,” Terry whispered. “And they promised the dreams would stop.”

“Did they keep their promises?” I asked back, my voice just as quiet.

“Yes,” he said gratefully. “No more dreams, and I got my dog.”

That didn’t seem to be so much to ask. I should be angrier at Terry, but I couldn’t scrape up the emotional energy. I was all worn out.

Eric was standing in the shadow of the trees. He stayed back so his presence wouldn’t agitate Terry. From the sudden stiffness in Sam’s face, I knew he was aware Eric was there, but Sam didn’t say anything.

We got Terry settled on Sam’s couch, and when he drifted away into the stream of sleep, I hugged Sam. “Thanks,” I said.

“For what?”

“For passing Terry the bat.”

Sam stepped back. “It was all I could think of to do. I couldn’t clear the bar without alerting her. She had to be surprised or it was all over.”

“She’s that strong?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And she’s convinced her world would be okay if it weren’t for you, sounded like. Fanatics are hard to beat down. They keep coming.”

“Are you thinking about the people who are trying to get Merlotte’s closed?”

His smile was bitter. “Maybe I am. I can’t believe this is happening in our country, and me a veteran. Born and bred in the USA.”

“I feel guilty, Sam. Some of this has happened because of me. The firebombing . . . Sandra wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t been there. And the fight. Maybe you should let me go. I can work somewhere else, you know.”

“Do you want to?”

I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but at least it wasn’t relief.

“No, of course not.”

“Then you have a job. We’re a package deal.”