Chapter Five
After running across fields for what seemed like miles, Edwin slowed to a stop. He hadn’t let himself check whether Stuart had followed, had been running so fast his friend’s scent wouldn’t have been detectable. Part of him, as he’d pounded along, his paws smacking onto the grass, had hoped that Stuart had remained in the cottage, but the other part, the needy side of him, the side that wanted Stuart to understand that Edwin wasn’t a bad man, hoped his pal had tagged behind.
Edwin lowered himself to the ground so he could catch his breath. His bones and muscles ached from the punishing run he’d forced himself to take, and he panted, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. He needed a damn drink, but he was far from any pond or stream. And the type of drink he wanted wasn’t water anyway. A long, cool glass of lager would suit him at the moment. Something to slake his thirst but not get him tipsy.
The smell of Stuart suddenly wafted past, but he still didn’t turn his head to look behind him. Stuart would come lay beside him if he wanted to, or he’d stay back and wait until Edwin was ready. Edwin would never be ready to watch disappointment cloud Stuart’s face when he told him the true extent of what had happened, but it was a certainty that it would happen tonight. Telling the tale—where the fuck would he even start?
Edwin shifted to human where he rested then sat on his arse, legs bent, arms embracing his knees. Best he remained low in case anyone else was mad enough to be out at this late hour. People illegally hunted foxes around these parts. Being spotted naked in a field wasn’t ideal, and trying to explain it to someone who wasn’t a shifter would be awkward—unless he made out he was a naturist. With being spotted in mind, he flopped onto his back so he was even lower and stared at the moon.
It wasn’t smiling.
That was all right, Edwin wasn’t smiling either. He had nothing whatsoever to smile about. Maybe one day he would have, but he suspected any future smiles wouldn’t fill his face genuinely. They’d always be part fake as the constant reminder of what he’d done lurked in his mind. Was it possible to move on and forget something like this? If he told himself enough that it hadn’t happened, would be begin to believe his own lies?
I don’t fucking know.
“I’ll start from the beginning, then,” Edwin said, darting his gaze from star to star in order to stop his breathing from going haywire like it had earlier.
And so he did, from that first glimpse of the drugs on the desk to tonight’s horrific body-hiding incident and then to the present moment, leaving nothing out.
Stuart had stayed silent throughout, not even sighing or growling. If his scent hadn’t continued to filter through the air, Edwin might have thought the wolf had gone. It meant something, didn’t it, if Stuart was still here?
“So,” Edwin said, “As you can gather, I’m in a bit of a mess. No point in me asking what you’d do, because I already know. You wouldn’t be here, sprawled out naked on the fucking grass, telling me all about it. You’d have put a stop to it the second you saw the drugs.”
He waited for some kind of response.
Nothing.
Stuart was probably still in wolf form, ready to scarper back to town once Edwin’s tale was finished. Angry with Edwin for what he’d done.
“And I reckon you’ve got a right to be angry with me,” Edwin said. “All this time I’ve known Farrow is a nasty fucker, and I didn’t say a word to you or anyone. I’m scared of him, of what he’ll do to me. Fear buys silence. It buys so many things. Makes you do many things. And now you’re involved, and I don’t blame you if you walk away now and grass me up.”
Edwin smiled sadly. What a turn up for the books. He’d been innocent once. All right, he’d done a few naughty things as a kid, but nothing any other young lad hadn’t done. But this wasn’t just naughty. It went far beyond that.
“Might actually be a blessing to have you do that—you know, grass on me,” Edwin went on. “Then when I get home and there’s a knock at the door, and I open it and two burly coppers are standing there, or even Alpha Roberts, spouting that I’m under arrest and whatever I say will be taken down in evidence, blah-fucking-blah… Yeah, that might be the best bet. Go on, go and do that now so you’re not dragged any deeper into this shitfest.”
If Stuart didn’t do that, Edwin would give himself up if that was what Stuart wanted. Edwin would do anything for him. And if giving himself up meant Stuart wasn’t perverting the course of justice by just knowing what Edwin had done, then that was the right action to take.
“Scrap that,” he said. “I don’t expect you to go and do my dirty work for me. Just give me a moment to get my thoughts together then I’ll run home, take a shower, get myself dressed. I’ll walk into the police station and give myself up—or go and see the Alpha, and he can take me in. At least by being in the nick, then prison, I’ll be safe from Farrow.” He let out a strangled laugh. “Unless Farrow’s got people on the inside who’ll get to me that way. Wouldn’t put it past him. Aww, bloody hell…”
Whichever way he looked at it, Edwin was fucked.
He thought that just by mentioning their Alpha he could smell the man, but he laughed wryly—the mind was good at playing tricks. And whenever he was with Stuart, all he could usually smell was his friend. His scent overpowered everything.
“No.”
Edwin’s body jerked at hearing that word. He stayed put, staring at those damn stars, even though every part of him screamed to turn onto his front so he could look at Stuart. Not that he’d see much out here in the dark, but his silhouette would be a reassuring sight. But Edwin didn’t think he deserved to have the luxury of looking at Stuart anymore. And he acknowledged that he was a coward anyway, still wanting to shirk from seeing his friend’s utter contempt for him.
“No,” Stuart said again.
And even though that second no hadn’t sounded like Stuart, it could only be him, so it was pointless thinking it could be anyone else. Regardless, Edwin’s body went cold, and sweat broke out all over him, chilling him even more. Something wasn’t right, and he knew that for sure now as he scented that another person was with them. Someone he knew. Very well. Someone who knew Edwin very well.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Stuart would have already alerted the authorities, bringing them with him to Edwin’s cottage. Edwin didn’t blame him either—not one bit. For Stuart to taint his good name for Edwin’s sake wasn’t something Edwin would ever expect. And with their Alpha also being the head copper in Kortley… Edwin shouldn’t have expected a different outcome—and he should have gone to their Alpha as soon as he’d discovered Farrow wasn’t the upstanding citizen he portrayed himself as. Still, at least Edwin’s confession had been totally honest—he’d held absolutely nothing back. And because he’d known Alpha Roberts all his life, Roberts would know that Edwin wasn’t the sort who would willingly go into something so bad.
Do I stand a chance here? Or will Roberts take me in and do all he can to lock me up then throw away the key?
Edwin blew out a huge breath. The moment of reckoning was here.
“This is how things are going to play out,” Roberts said. “And you’re going to do exactly what I say, and when I say to do it. You got that, cub?”
The endearment gave Edwin a smidgen of hope. Roberts had always called anyone in the younger generation cub. But had it just been a slip of the tongue? Or had Roberts meant to say it as some form of reassurance?
“I’ve got it,” Edwin said. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ve committed crimes, no two ways about it. I deserve whatever punishment the justice system sees fit to give me. Lay it on me, sir. It’s time to put a stop to this shit.”