Page 85 of Soft Flannel Hank

Hank remembered Anna’s ravaged throat where Edwin had carelessly fed from her. The bruises on her arms… But Hank didn’t want to tell that story.

“Nat glamoured Anna’s memory so that she wouldn’t remember what Edwin had done, only that he’d broken her heart. But I knew. And I wouldn’t let him glamour me. As soon as she turned eighteen, she left. Said she couldn’t stand to be here anymore with so many memories of him.”

“Was she okay?”

“Eventually, I think. But she won’t talk to me about it. So I don’t know. Then I was alone in that house again. Only now I knew about vampires.”

He huffed. An attempt at a laugh. But it felt flat.

“I was sad as hell, but at least I had Anna back in my life, even from a distance. Then college started and she got busy. She meant to call me back. She would text. But I didn’t want to intrude. Or be an imposition.”

He knew what Nadja would think about that.Hank,she would say in that gentle voice of hers,it is not an intrusion to be a part of someone’s life when they love you. You are not an imposition.

He’d journaled about it, but that didn’t mean he believed it. Not yet, anyway. But he held that little spark of hope that someday he would.

The story was almost over but somehow this felt like the hardest part.

“Then one night, all hell broke loose. The police had bad information, but the chief was under pressure to act and so they sent a team in to serve the warrant anyway. A kid was killed.”

“I heard about that. You were there?” Her voice was a breath in the otherwise silent room and he could almost feel her pulling away, distancing herself.

“No,” he replied, clearing his throat. “No. It was in a town a few hours from here. But I’m still part of it, you know?Waspart of it. Because they wore the same uniform I did. And there was all of this pressure to make it seem like this kid had been the aggressor. To drum up testimonies about his mental instability.”

No more bad press, they’d said.Make him look unstable had been the call from state capitol.

“That’s awful,” Esther whispered. Hank nodded.

“It was bullshit. But the way all my colleagues talked about it, it was true. Like somewhere along the line they’d started to believe it. And suddenly—” He took a deep breath and, for the first time in this story, looked into Esther’s eyes. “Suddenly, I realized that I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep going through my life as if I wasn’t in control of it. I couldn’t just let things happen around me even though I knew they were wrong. So I left.”

She kept shuffling, but held his gaze.

“I left the force and holed up in my house and for a long time didn’t really care what happened to me. I’d failed my community. I’d failed Marnie. I’d failed Anna. I’d failed everyone. And I… I couldn’t live with it.”

“You didn’t fail, Hank,” she said, and Hank saw her eyes water, the tears making them look that electric, shimmering blue that seemed so otherworldly to him.

“I did. And now—”

She paused her shuffling.

“And now, I’m scared shitless I’m gonna fail you. What if I can’t keep you safe? I couldn’t keep Anna safe. What if you—” He couldn’t finish.

“I’ll be okay, Hank.”

“But then I— I just— you’re just— you make me—” He couldn’t seem to spit the words out. He shook his head and looked at the floor between his feet. “Goddammit, Esther. You make me want things. You make me believe I canhavethings. But whenever I reach out for them, reach out for you, you’re gone.”

“Hank,” Esther said, her voice tense. “I can’t keep apologizing for that.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he rasped. “I know that the first time you weren’t really leaving. I know you were with Magda. I know you were trying to find a safe place. And the second time, I know I drove you to it. I drove you away.”

“You didn’t,” Esther protested.

“I did. I pushed you away because I’m so terrified of trying to hold on. I think I—”

He couldn’t say it. He felt it. Heknew it.Deep down in his marrow, he knew he loved her. But he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t bear to tell her and then hear her say “Thank you” instead of what he hoped to hear.

Or worse, hear nothing at all.

“I survived my life collapsing around my ears, but if I let myself want you, if I let myself try to keep you, and… you decide that you want something different, I won’t—I don’t know what will be left of me.”