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“You don’t lead the pack. Hank isn’t your responsibility.”
“If I pass the buck in a situation like this, I don’t deserve to ever lead the pack.”
“I thought you didn’t want to, isn’t that what you told me? You said you wanted a normal life, and you wanted your brother to lead the pack.” Every time he said pack he made a face like he was biting into something sour.
Since this was neither the time nor the place to explain my plans for the future—especially since I didn’t know what they were yet—I avoided his comment. But I couldn’t help but notice Wilder had taken a keen interest in what was being said between Cash and me.
Great, now I had a pack subordinate who knew I’d put my support behind Ben. I wish Cash knew what kind of corner he’d just painted me into.
“Is that why you didn’t call your uncle?” Cash asked. “Because of some misguided idea you need to be able to save Hank on your own? Don’t you think your pack leader deserves to know what kind of a disaster he’s about to be involved in? I never thought of you as selfish before.”
Wow.
Not only was he sticking the knife in today, he was determined to twist it as many times as he could.
That was me, Selfish Genie, hoarding all the problems to myself.
Too bad he was also kind of right. I should tell Callum everything, especially now that my initial plan had failed. We had Hank…sort of. Maybe it was time to call in the cavalry and admit this was too much for me to deal with.
“Hey,” Wilder interjected. “That’s enough. The only reason she’s here to begin with was so she could help me. She figured by coming along she could keep me from doing anything too stupid.”
Cash shut his notebook and got to his feet. “Too bad she wasted her time, then.”
Chapter Nineteen
True to his word, Cash had me out of jail by the end of the day.
Just me.
He was on the sidewalk outside the sheriff’s department, leaning against his car, when I walked out. I couldn’t recall ever seeing him appear the part of a lawyer quite so much before. With his suit jacket over dark indigo jeans and his white button-down shirt unbuttoned just so, he looked amazing.
It took him a moment to acknowledge me, he was so busy talking animatedly on his cell. I got the vibe it wasn’t a social call. I stopped next to him and waited…and waited some more. After a minute he nodded at me, letting me know he at least recognized I had arrived.
“No, listen to
me. What I’m saying is there’s a case here that could be groundbreaking, all right? It’s not just a murder case. This could be the first really meaningful public trial of a werewolf. If you’re telling me that’s not something you want to be a part of, then maybe you’re not as serious about your career as I thought you were.”
I made a face. Getting backup, especially if it was from an established lawyer, would be beneficial to us. But I didn’t like the way he was talking about Hank’s case as if it didn’t matter which way it went, as long as he and this other party were involved.
Cash had never struck me as the kind of guy who was into his profession for all the fame and glory, but maybe I was wrong. I was beginning to wonder how well Cash and I really knew each other, even after all this time.
“Fine, great. I have a place booked at this little motel outside Franklinton. Total dive, but it’s the best I could do.” There was a long pause. “No, not like a Best Western dive, more like that hotel from Psycho.”
“The Bates Motel,” I supplied. Cash ignored me.
“Yeah, see you in a couple hours.” He hung up and as if out of habit leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Hey, baby.”
“You couldn’t get Wilder out?”
His hand balled into a fist and then he released it, shaking his head like he wanted to say something and thought better of it. “I’m still working on it, but the deputy he hit isn’t in a forgiving mood. Apparently having his nose broken didn’t make him feel too charitable.”
Anderson had taken a direct hit to the face from an Alpha werewolf. That he only had a broken nose meant Wilder had been downright gentle with him. He could very well be in a coma right now if Wilder had hit him with real intent. I wondered if Anderson would appreciate the difference if someone explained it to him.
Hey, he could have killed you, consider yourself lucky! might not be the best way to get Wilder out of jail.
“Look,” Cash said, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I’m trying my best. But the cops aren’t thrilled about the idea of letting the potentially violent brother of an alleged murderer out of jail. Can you blame them?”
“Sure, because they’re using that as an excuse to cover up a giant conspiracy.” As soon as I said it I knew how crazy it sounded. Even to my ears it was something an insane person would say, but I knew it was true.
