Chapter 7
Hank
“Let me make sure I have this straight,” Edwina says, frowning. “The father of the panther ya killed is the chief of police for the FCPD?”
“Yeah.” Pulling my car onto the shoulder, I kill the motor and rub a hand over my head. The truth sounds more fucked up when I hear the words out loud.
Edwina’s forehead puckers, and her cheeks color slightly. “Luc is behind this.”
So my suspicions about him were right. “What do you know, Edwina?”
“Council doesn’t want ya representing ‘em anymore. Luc told me that at The Red Room.” Edwina rests her head against the seat. “Cowards. All of ‘em. Luc could have come to ya. Told ya the truth. Gave ya a fighting chance instead of trying to ambush ya.”
Ambush?
Reality hits me in the damned gut. I’m being set up on a grand scale. Captain’s hoping I go down to NOLA and push my weight around. The superintendent will contact Miller. Next thing you know, I’m dismissed for intruding on another department’s investigation. I know what I have to do. Should have done it a long time ago.
Leaving Falls Creek, though, isn’t something I ever wanted. After I killed Ryder, the Elders urged me to get out of town. My life was on the line, but I couldn’t leave Sheila. My family begged me to save my own life. Their reasoning made sense when they told me Tyson and Sheila were sleeping together. Bystanders would say I had no reason to stay. It was my new friendship with the female beside me that kept me immobile.
I think back to the conversation with Edwina before we went out. She agreed to take it one day at a time. With the odds stacked against me, I need to make sure I heard her right. “Did you mean what you said earlier?” The question breaks through the silence like a knife. Just like a bleeding cut, the words leave the potential for a scar.
Edwina’s eyebrows knit together. “About?”
“Figuring this thing out between us.”
She gives me a blank stare.
Some moments are joyful and are meant for celebration—the taking of a mate, the birth of a kit. This ain’t one of them. My next words can put the brakes on whatever this is I’m building with Edwina.
“I can’t stay here, Angel.” I scrub my hand over my face. “Ryder’s old man won’t stop until I’m dead. Edwina, I want you to come with me.”
Edwina flinches and stares at her lap, speechless.
I guess I was wrong thinking this female might choose to stay by my side. Support me. Build a life with me. This is why I’ve stayed alone since Sheila ran off with Tyson. It’s easier than dragging good folk down with me. Plus it’s a helluva lot easier on my heart. No feelings involved, and nobody gets hurt.
“Never mind, Angel.” I twist the key in the ignition. “You don’t have to give up your home for me.”
“I’ll go,” she mumbles.
My gaze bounces to her. Surely, I heard wrong. “Angel, you don’t owe me anything. You got a life here.”
“Correction. I don’t have a life anywhere. That’s what it means to be undead, Hank. I exist in this town, but there’s nothing holding me in Falls Creek.”
“But—”
Edwina reaches up and places her red-tipped finger against my lips. “I won’t lie to ya. There’s nothing for me in N’awlins either. Nothing but a lot of bad blood and memories I’ve been running from.”
I wrap my fingers around hers and lower our conjoined hands. “I’m the one on the run. You don’t have to follow me.”
“I know, but—”
“Let me finish.” Shifting in the seat, I face Edwina. “I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t want you to go. After Sheila, I don’t trust easily, but I trust you. Like I said, I’m on the run. But you, my Angel, are done running. Time for you to stand up and not let anyone force you out of town.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not as strong as ya think.”
I squeeze her hand. “Chasing after a vampire and taking out everyone in your way sounds damned strong to me.”
“That was anger driving me. Hank, ya just don’t know how much shit I’ve endured since the first day I walked this earth. And I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of it all.” She sighs and slumps in the seat.
I know exactly what she’s hinting at. Every person with brown skin has faced it at one time or another. It doesn’t stop just because Edwina’s undead. If anything, it’s worse. Supernaturals can be just as bigoted as some humans. “I imagine the prejudice has been worse for you.”
She glances at me. “Ya understand?”
“How could I not? Have you seen me?” I point to my chest. To humans, I’m just another intimidating, suspicious brother. Edwina’s not the only one dealing with shit.
“How could ya understand the injustices I have faced?” Her brow furrows, and there’s a sharpness to her words. “My father was the son of a slave owner. Mama was one of their slaves. My granddaddy tormented his own son for falling in love with property. Mama and Papa ran off with me, but they couldn’t outrun the hatred.” Edwina’s voice breaks.
“You don’t have to spell it out for me. You’ve had an unfair, hard life. But you have me now,” I say with conviction. “If New Orleans is too much for you to bear, we’ll leave. I promise no one hurts you ever again.”
Edwina’s expression pales. “Ya would do that for me?”
Deep down, something tells me to cut myself free. Disentangle myself before shit becomes serious. But I don’t want to walk away. Not from her. I’m enjoying the time I spend with this female. Edwina keeps me from feeling sorry for myself, especially at night. As long as she’s in it, I am too. I reach out and cup her cool cheek.
“Of course I would. Haven’t you figured out this is more than a prolonged booty call? Angel, you’re someone special to me.”
She leans into my hand and looks up with soft eyes, giving me a glimpse into her fragile heart. The moment doesn’t last long enough though. In a blink, it’s gone and she sits up taller. I pull the car back onto the road.
A lot of my shit is at Edwina’s. I’ll drop her off before going to my place for the rest of my stuff. I’m tempted to buy a couple of plane tickets. Driving twenty-two hours to New Orleans is not something I relish doing, but I’m kind of attached to my ride.
“Hank?” Edwina’s smooth voice cuts through my rambling thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Question for ya. Why did ya stay in Falls Creek after killing Jackson?”
Hell. She would ask that one. “Honestly?”
“That would be nice,” she mutters.
“Stupidity followed by blindness.”
“I don’t understand,” she says.
Edwina’s farm is in sight. I turn the wheel and navigate the narrow lane leading to the barn. “I was young and stupid, thinking Ryder’s family wouldn’t want revenge. Didn’t think his old man would actually do anything.”
“And the blindness?” she asks as I shut off the motor.
“I met you, Angel.”
‘Nuff said.