Page 56 of A Wolfe in the Woods

Guilt pulled at me. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing. I should’ve told you.”

She shook her head, her eyes steady. “I understand you not wanting to discuss the case, but…you could have told me what you are.”

“I meant to,” I admitted quietly, “but…in my experience, folks don’t really like us. They certainly don’t trust us, especially humans.”

And I wanted you to like me,I couldn’t help but add silently. Until I’d ruined it.

Her brows furrowed. “I would have understood. You know I work with your kind.”

“And how do you feel about them?” I cut in, sharper than intended.

Blanche froze, caught off guard. She didn’t answer.

“Exactly,” I said, leaning back. “My kind have been persecuted for centuries, and no matter who you are or how successful you become, it follows you like a curse. I knew how you felt about your boss. Thought you might feel the same way about me.”

Her expression softened as she reflected. “Well, for what it’s worth…you’re nothing like him.”

I huffed a humorless laugh. “And yet we share the same nature. There’s a reason so many of my kind make it to high places in this world—because ambition becomes our prey and we hunt it down at all costs. I’m not saying that to frighten you, but it’s true.”

Blanche took it all in well, considering the circumstances. “You didn’t know any of this was going on?”

My jaw cracked, and I lowered my voice. “You can’t work in that field and not be aware of corruption. It’s everywhere. I just didn’t know how deep it ran, how people who I thought I knew, and even trusted to a degree, sold me out. I was lead council, and I was the one who was most in the dark.” I exhaled slowly before continuing. “I still see his face sometimes. Not in dreams. Just…places. Street corners. Reflections. That look right before he stepped into the courtroom, like he knew he wouldn’t walk back out the same. I know I didn’t do anything, but I still feel I’m responsible. Why the fuck is that?”

Blanche’s voice was quiet but steady when it came. “I didn’t know. I’m…sorry.”

I gave a small nod, acknowledging her words. “Then…not even a week later, my father died. Heart failure.”

I stared down at the table for a moment, stirring my spoon in my mug, watching the swirl of cream.

“We weren’t close toward the end. Hadn’t talked in years. He did express at one point that he wanted me back to help with the land. To take up the family mantle. I called it a fantasy, toldhim I had bigger things to do. But when I got the call…something cracked. Suddenly the city felt like a coffin. My suits didn’t fit right. The skyline made me nauseous.”

“And so you left,” she finished quietly.

I nodded. “I returned to Juniper Woods telling myself it was to pick up the pieces after he died, but what it really was… It was a clean slate.”

I looked directly into her eyes now.

She tilted her head slightly, the edge of her lip catching on a half smile. “And have you found that? Your clean slate?”

“Some.” I hesitated. “The beginnings of a fresh start, but it wasn’t supposed to include anyone else. I wasn’t planning on people. Guests, sure, but not…anyone else. I told myself,No distractions.”

Blanche’s smile faltered slightly. “Yeah. I wasn’t planning on becoming one.”

A quiet passed between us. It wasn’t awkward, but I sensed that we were both in our heads, turning over the words.

I ran my finger once around the rim of my mug. “Anyhow, I owe you an apology since you didn’t deserve the things I said. These are my issues, not yours. It wasn’t fair to dump them on you.”

“I’ve said worse to people I loved,” she said. She looked down at her mug.“And I’ve let worse be said to me.”

My brow twitched at that, but I didn’t press.

She added, more softly, “Still…it hurt. Not because you said it, but because some part of me feared you were right.”

“It still wasn’t my place to say anything. I didn’t know the relationship you had with June. And I’m dealing with my own shit, and I took it out on you,” I said. “I really am sorry, Blanche. And I thought about just leaving it. That maybe you would be better off if I never came here, if you never saw me again. But I couldn’t leave it like that.”

Her gaze drifted to the window again, watching as a delivery bike zipped past, the city blurring behind it. “When my grandmotherdied…” she began, her voice low, “I didn’t just lose her. I lost this thread. This tie to something good and something real. I didn’t even realize how thin it had gotten until it snapped.”

A loud group of businessmen in cheap suits came through the door, laughing as they bellied up at the counter to order. Blanche’s gaze flicked to them before they returned to me.