Page 79 of Soft Flannel Hank

Esther wasn’t fooled. She scrambled across the console and into the driver’s seat. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him toward her, slamming her lips against his. He held her head between his hands as he kissed her like it was the last time he’d ever get to.

He swallowed her gasps as he tried to pour every single ounce of his feelings back into her with that kiss. So she would know. So she would never doubt.Just in case this shit goes sideways.

Hank pulled away suddenly and Esther whined.

“Stay ten minutes. And then go.”

She nodded and Hank looked at her one last time, forcing his brain to capture the image of her red curls,riotouslymussed and wild. Her blue eyes. Her dense freckles. Her kiss-swollen lips. He took it all and tucked it away before he turned and walked toward the cabin with a slow, prowling step.

Hank approached the door and stood next to it, peering inside. Someone was in there, alright, and they were not making an effort to be quiet. He opened the door quickly and stepped inside, closing it silently behind him.

* * *

Callum rodein cars like the one parked in front of her. Shiny, black SUVs that swallowed him as he climbed into their dark interiors. It couldn’t be Callum because of the bright sunlight surrounding her. But there were plenty of creatures that could walk in the day who he could have hired. Creatures that had the strength of ten Hanks.

And Hank was inside with whoever it was.

Why had she let him go? Why hadn’t she run in after him and thrown herself in front of him? Or just left together? Why hadn’t they just turned around? Kept driving? She felt herself wheezing as she stared at the cabin door and tried to regulate her breathing.

All day, Hank had stuck to the speed limit. It had almost felt leisurely as the miles passed under their entwined hands. Like they were two people in love going on a road trip for a long weekend.

“Oh, god,” she moaned into the empty air around her.Two people in love.

In a perfect world, she would have met him while visiting the Pacific Northwest for vacation. They would have hooked up, and she would have continued to push back her return plans until finally they would have made it official, and she would have stayed for good. Maybe he would have gone to Savannah with her to pack up her apartment.

She would have loved him until there was no breath left in her body. And after, she would have loved him beyond the limiting space of cells and tissue and bones.

“Fuck,” Esther whispered. Shedidlove him. Now. In this timeline.

It was impossible and inconvenient. The timing was laughable. That she would fall head over heels in love with a man in just a few days and not get to keep him. Because she wasn’t going to be allowed to keep anything. Her freedom. Her life. Her love.

But they wanted her, not him. She could keep him safe.

Esther yanked on the door handle and threw herself out of the truck. She took a shaky step towards the cabin, steeling her nerves and forcing her legs to solidify. She woodenly climbed the steps, but before she could close her fingers around the knob, the door opened and her vision was filled with a broad wall of plaid flannel.

“Esther,” Hank said. His voice sounded stern, her name coming out as a bark. But he clutched her against his chest, one hand stroking her hair gently. “I told you to stay in the truck.” That was softer.

She pressed her forehead into his sternum, feeling his powerful heartbeat in between her eyebrows.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said softly, sounding weary and relieved.

“But that SUV—”

“It’s mine,” said a watery voice behind Hank.

Esther wrenched off of Hank’s chest and looked around him.

A person stood in the kitchen. They wore black leggings and black fur boots that came up to their knees. A black hoodie was pulled up over their head, and through the front, long hanks of black hair hung limply to the front pocket of the sweatshirt. They were ghostly pale, with blue eyes so light they reminded Esther of icebergs.

They were crying, their cheeks wet with streaming tears. Esther looked at Hank.

“This is Niamh,” he said. “She’s Nat’s friend.”

“I had planned to be gone by now,” she said in a quiet, tear-filled voice. Esther detected an Irish accent. “But I was waylaid. I’ll be on my way now.”

Esther’s intuition, her magic, all of her senses were alive as she looked at Niamh. She had the same ancient sort of presence that many vampires had, but was something entirely different. Esther had never seen anything like her.

“I’m not far,” Niamh said in her lilting voice. “There’s no cell service out here, but if you go out the back and head due north for about two miles, you’ll find me. I have a satellite phone.”