Page 94 of Soft Flannel Hank

“Easy enough to find with GPS.”

“It isnae warded like that witch’s house was? Is it?”

“Jasper uses it as a hunting cabin, and nobody else lives within fifty miles.”

“So it’s just her and this Hank Dove?”

“That’s right,” the stranger said, a vicious smile on his face. “I don’t expect we’ll have any trouble getting to her.”

“Och, nae, Rabbie,” Callum said, clicking his tongue. “You should always expect trouble.”

In her dream, Esther saw Callum smirk.

“How long until we can go?” the stranger asked. “Tonight?”

“Nae. Give them another day or two up there to let their guard down. Then we’ll come and take care of her.”

Esther woke, her whole body rigid and drenched in a cold sweat. Hank slept deeply behind her.

They know about the cabin. They know about Hank. They’re coming.

She had to get out. She had to leave without waking him or he’d never let her go. He’d think he could protect her and then Callum and his men would—Esther couldn’t finish the thought.

Centimeters at a time, Esther slipped out of Hank’s arms, quickly replacing the empty space she left behind with a pillow, which he hugged tightly to his chest. He snored loudly once and Esther was sure he was going to wake up, but he didn’t. After a moment, he relaxed back into sleep, snoring softly and rhythmically.

Esther tiptoed out of the bedroom and went to the bathroom and packed all of her toiletries. She was bundling up for a long, cold walk when she spied the keys to the truck sitting on the counter next to Hank’s wallet.

She could take the truck and be back in World’s End before sunrise if she hauled ass. And if Hank was stranded here, he couldn’t come back to World’s End and play the white knight. He couldn’t throw himself in front of the runaway train that was her fate.

Tears burned in her eyes as she picked up the keys and put them in the pocket of her coat. Hank would be devastated. He would be furious. He’d never forgive her. Hadn’t she promised him, with her tongue tangling with his, that she wouldn’t leave him again? That she was his and he was hers? That she would stay? That she would tell him every single day how wonderful he was?

But he would be safe.He will be safe.

Esther would get a note to Magda to send Jamie to go get Hank when it was all over, when she’d either led Callum and his men away from town or walked into their clutches. Either way, when Hank came back to World’s End, she’d be gone. Hopefully, in time, he would understand why she had done it.

She grabbed a piece of paper from a notebook he’d packed in his bag and used her teeth to uncap the ballpoint pen that was stored inside the spiral. Tears dropped from her eyes and splashed on the page as she wrote a goodbye letter that felt utterly insufficient. How could she possibly fit all of the contents of her heart onto one piece of loose-leaf? She couldn’t. But she did her best.

When she’d finished, she tucked the pen back into the notebook’s spiral and slid the paper onto the counter next to his wallet. The truck keys were heavy in her pocket as she stepped out of the cabin and into the frigid, black night. Her tears felt icy on her cheeks but fell steadily anyway. There was no stopping them.

Esther started the truck and hoped that the low rumble didn’t wake him up. She swiped at her bleary eyes as she pulled the truck into the turnaround space and then turned it away from the cabin.

Her insides roiled as she imagined her future. She could run. She could outpace Callum. She’d done it for this long and surely he’d tire of chasing her eventually. He had businesses to attend to, and while a year or two was a drop in the bucket to someone with eternal life, she had to believe that, sooner or later, Callum MacLeod would get bored of hunting her and let her go.

Maybe she’d return to World’s End then. Maybe Magda would let her stay in the little A-frame cabin in the woods behind her house. Maybe she and Magda could go into business. Maybe Jory would let her work in the vintage shop and they would have a girls’ night once a week.

Maybe she’d see Hank around town. He’d never speak to her again, she knew. He’d lock his heart down like a cell and never let her near the key. But she could see him and know he was safe, and maybe she’d find some peace in being close to him even if he wouldn’t let her come any closer than a cabin across town.

As she drove, she found herself feeling stronger and stronger with every mile that passed under her feet. After an hour or so, her phone started ringing in the seat next to her, signaling a return to cell service and putting her one step closer to the future that awaited her decision. She answered quickly and said, “I know, Shannon, I know. I’m taking care of it. Call you later.”

She hung up and clicked on one of the three numbers saved in her phone, listening anxiously as it rang and watching the white lines whiz past.

The sun erupted over the horizon, and Esther squinted into the blinding light feeling a hollow resignation settle over her. She would lose Hank Dove and his big, brawny love, his battered goodness, his fragile care. She would lose his warmth. And she would mourn that loss every day for the rest of her life. But he would live.

After what felt like a hundred rings, the line finally connected.

“Hi, Jory, it’s Esther. I know it’s early, but I need your help.”

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