Worth the Fight

by SF Benson

  I lean into him. “Yes. It takes a minute for me to get used to the noise. Let’s dance.”

  The handsome shifter stands and leads me to the floor. The beat is perfect for a little closeness. Hank’s hands go to my hips, and I rock back and forth as we perform our own little two-step. Eyes locked on one another. Blocking the world out. And that’s when I hear it.

  “What are they doing here?”

  “You’d think they’d stick to their own side of town.”

  “Shouldn’t he be out searching for bad guys or something?”

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore the hate-filled words. Stopping in my tracks, I scan the room, searching for the owners.

  “What’s wrong, Edwina?” Hank pulls me closer, nearly causing me to fall off my stilettos.

  “I need to set somebody straight,” I hiss.

  “Let it go, Angel. I don’t care what anyone says. We have every right to be here.” Hank wraps his arms around me and continues rocking side to side. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “If you want to leave, however, we will.”

  I take a deep, calming breath. “Ya right, cher. I asked to come here. Let’s go back to the table.”

  We’re about to sit down when my favorite Kid Cudi tune starts playing, and I lead Hank back onto the dance floor. For a large cat, Hank can dance. He moves behind me, and we fall into step together. This time when the voices float to my ears I smile. This male is mine for as long as I want, and haters won’t change that.

  You hope.

  I’m enjoying myself when I notice Luc and Inès enter the room. The scowl on his face screams disapproval.

  “Ignore him, Angel,” Hank says into my ear. “You’re here with me.”

  Luc, however, doesn’t stop staring. A few gossipy females crowd his table, filling him in on our activity. Deciding to give them something to watch, I grind my ass against Hank’s crotch.

  “Naughty, Angel. Two can play at that game, though.” Hank turns me around, and we start bumping and grinding right on the dance floor. I step back, and he grabs my hand. I shimmy my shoulders, shake my ass, and gyrate toward him.

  “Shameless.”

  “He’s supposed to be an officer of the law.”

  “This isn’t a strip club.”

  “I heard that’s what she used to do at one point in life.”

  Hank tugs me to him and stops dancing. “You’re right. We need to set the record straight.”

  He wraps an arm around my waist and leads me over to Luc’s table.

  “Evening, Edwina,” Inès says as the music dies down. “Hank, I’m sorry to hear about your brother’s troubles.”

  “We’re headed to New Orleans to check things out, but I’m sure Tyson’s fine.” Hank’s gaze locks onto Luc. “We need to come to an understanding.”

  “We do?” Luc sniffs at the glass of brandy placed before him. Most vampires don’t indulge in social drinking. The taste of alcohol sickens them. But Luc has always been different. I think it’s his ties to an original sire that allows him to embrace some of his former humanity. “By all means, join us.”

  Hank’s grip tightens around me. “I don’t think so. Get the message out to your flunkies. Edwina is with me. Anyone who harms her, threatens her, or says any shit to her will answer to me.”

  The music stops, and everyone—the DJ, the servers, and the patrons—stand around, focused on our conversation.

  Inès’s eyes, fixed on me, widen, but it’s Luc who speaks. “You do know any relationship between the two of you is forbidden by Council?”

  Hank drops his hand and leans over the table, stopping inches away from Luc’s nose. “Council can go fuck itself. Harm her and see what happens.”

  “Might I suggest the two of you consider making New Orleans a permanent visit. The NOLA Council might be more amenable to your situation,” Luc says calmly.

  I notice Hank’s hands curl, claws poking forward. I tug on his sleeve. “He’s not worth it. Take me home.”

  There’s so much of Hank’s stuff stashed at my place I guess he could call it his home too.

  A thin smile crosses Luc’s face as he listens to my thoughts. “Living together? You’re compromising your position with the FCPD. I think we should consider a replacement.”

  Now I’m the one seeing red.

  “Council never wanted Hank representing them,” I say directly to Luc’s mind.

  “You miss the point, as usual, Edwina. We need an impartial being on the police force. Not someone who is easily duped or swayed by a quick fuck. How do we know we can trust either of you?”

  “Let’s go. Now,” I demand. “Luc, ya have heard our travel plans. I’ll let ya know if we come back.”

  My heels, clicking across the empty dance floor, sound like bullets as I storm toward the exit. Hank hurries behind me. I don’t speak, however, until we’re in the car.

  “Council wants ya off the force,” I spit out.

  Hank cranks up his car and pulls out of the parking lot. “How do you know that?”

  “Luc told me. He said neither of us could be trusted. He said ya weren’t impartial.”

  Hank slams his fist on the dashboard, making me jump. The car shudders in response. “I know what this is about.”

  “What?” I’m still fuming over Luc’s insult.

  “Remember me telling you about Jackson Ryder?”

  “The panther who killed ya sista?”

  Hank side-glances at me. “Yeah. I never served time for his death. Judge ruled it self-defense though. He said I was protecting Jenn. But Ryder’s family swore they’d get even with me.”

  “There aren’t any Ryders on Council.”

  “No, but they have a link within the FCPD.” Hank steers the car around a corner and away from downtown Falls Creek.

  “What kind of link, Hank?”

  “About a year ago we got a new police chief. He’s the first supernatural in the position.”

  A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. “Who is he?”

  “None other than Jackson’s father.”

  Fuck it to hell!

  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?”
<
br />   “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.

  Chapter 8

  Hank

  I pull my car into the parking lot along the side of Balls Up. All I thought about on the drive over was that asshole, Elijah Ryder. His family always believed they were above the law. In an ironic twist of fate, they kind of are now that Ryder is chief of police.

  Unfortunately, the old cat won’t let the situation rest until everyone involved in Jackson’s death is punished. After all Brady and his pack have done for me, a warning is a necessity.

  Thankfully, it’s still too early for a crowd at the sports bar. Glancing through the door, I notice the place is empty except for Brady and his constant companion Audra Nevers, a female he needs to go ahead and claim. The two of them have been an item since high school. They step out of an intimate embrace as I enter the bar.

  “Hank, you don’t usually come around this early. Problem?” Brady backs away from Audra.

  “We need to talk.”

  The beautiful brown-skinned wolf and the alpha for her family gazes between Brady and me. “Baby, I’ll wait for you in the office.”

  “Thanks, sugar.” He squeezes her hand and watches her tight ass sashay from the room. Brady sighs and says, “A sight I never get tired of seeing.”

  I jerk my chin in her direction. “When you gonna go ‘head and claim her?”

  Brady shakes his head with a grin on his face. “Man, I’m more than ready. It’s up to her though.” He walks around the counter and pours a beer for me. Grabbing a bottle of Jack and a tumbler, Brady asks, “What’s up, Hank?”

  “Elijah Ryder.”

  Brady stops mid-pour and looks up at me. “Shit. How bad?”

  “Did you know he’s the chief of police?”

  “Naw.” Brady finishes pouring and slides a glass across the surface.

  I gulp down half the brew before speaking. “Well, our new chief is using his position to get revenge.”

  “Fuck.” Brady pours himself a couple of fingers’ worth of whiskey. “What’s the situation?”

  “I’m done with the force. Ryder’s setting me up for a fall. No way am I going out like that.” I finish off the beer.

  Brady tosses back his whiskey. “We need a plan. Old man Elijah ain’t gonna stop until we pay for Jackson’s death.”

  “I know.” I raise my hand when Brady offers a refill. The answer to my dilemma can’t be found in alcohol. “I’m leaving town with Edwina.”

  “Edwina?” Brady’s eyebrow lifts. His voice is full of wonder. “When did that happen?”

  “It ain’t like that.” I bow my head. “We’re going to New Orleans for Tyson. He’s in trouble.”

  Brady leans across the counter. “How is Edwina going to help you with that?”

  “She knows people. New Orleans is her hometown,” I mutter.

  Good going.

  I had my chance to be straight about
Edwina, and I couldn’t do it. Kind of difficult when I’m not sure what my feelings are for her. All I know is I want her by my side. All the time.

  “Okay.” Brady pours himself another drink. “If that’s the lie you want to hold on to, I’ll accept it. Tell me what you need from me.”

  Brady Romero and the Romero pack have done more than enough for me.

  Seven years ago, I showed up on Brady’s doorstep looking and smelling like an alley cat. Blood covered my T-shirt while deep claw marks marred my arms.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Brady looked past me, checking to see if I’d been followed. He shut the door and ushered me down the stairs to the basement.

  His father, Santiago, waited for us. The patriarch dragged a hand through his thick, graying hair and growled.“Tell me you did not do what I think you did.”

  I stayed silent while Brady paced frantically.

  Santiago’s amber eyes traced his son’s motions before his gaze landed on me. His piercing stare made me feel like prey. Tremors tore through my body. I balled my hands, trying to calm the shaking. It was the first time I ever took a life.

  “Jackson attacked Jenn.”

  Brady stopped in his tracks. “How is she?”

  “Dead.” The word tumbled out of my mouth. The reality of my actions sank me to my knees.

  With surprising calm, Santiago asked, “What happened?”

  It was a struggle putting the events into words, but somehow I managed. “I was out for a run and heard Jenn’s scream. When I found her, it was too late. Jackson, his mouth bloodied, stood over her. He took one look at me and challenged me. I didn’t hesitate to take him down.”

  “You need to leave town,” Santiago instructed.

  There was no judgment in his tone. Just compassion. A foreign concept for me. Wolves hung in packs and did what was good for all members. Cats only looked out for their own best interests. If I’d followed pack mentality, Jackson might still be alive and someone like Santiago would have meted out his punishment.

  Leaving town, however, wasn’t possible no matter how logical it seemed. Sheila and I had some problems, but I couldn’t leave her especially since she was pregnant. “No. Sheila needs protecting.”