Page 110 of Hell and High Water

To say it’s bizarre to see my town, my home, completely empty-looking itches at feelings I’d rather not deal with.

Then again, I would rather never deal with feelings.

Hellena’s definitely having an effect on me in that regard, though,making it easier to face the fact that the people I have been doing favors for, moving around like chess pieces for the greater good, are more than that. They are my fellow residents. They are my responsibility.

So, the imminent sense of dread and danger hanging over the city weighs even more heavily on my shoulders.

Signs of the drug gangs letting loose, getting ultra-violent out in the open, show everywhere. Damaged property. Burned cars.

No wonder people are scarce. They’ve all gone into hiding.

It makes me worry something worse has happened.

It can only be Marco’s men, the foreign presence shadowing the native threat around every corner.

We may have bitten off more than we can chew.

Along with the conspicuous lack of people, there’s no trace of the Block. Usually, motorcycle presence in town is fairly common, loud, a reminder that the gang lives here, but also that they exert a certain amount of protection, a check against the Ghosts getting out of control.

The silence on the street is blaring versus the silence in the car as Hellena and I drive into town.

Gavin and Tell split off to take care of some other business, contacting Ora, for one.

Glancing over, I debate reaching for her, but her body language is closed. Cold.

She simply looks out the window at the forlorn streets, the damage.

“There are a few of your things at the office I packed into a box we can grab while we’re there,” I say softly, finally breaking the soul-crushing quiet. “I just need to grab a few things and burn the rest. Can’t risk anyone breaking in and finding anything that could compromise us.”

“Good idea. Thanks for not throwing out my things.” She sniffs, a bit sarcastically.

“I considered it. Just to piss you off.” I need her to snap out of this. She’s too calm. Too distant.

“Sounds like something you would have done when I started with you. Testing me. Pushing me.”

I drive on without responding, though something deep inside squirms at the comment. Almost like I should… apologize.

Just the fact that I’m considering sends me into a mental spin again.

So much has changed.

Yet I'm fighting to stay the same old me. Old habits. Stubbornness.

Fear.

It's utterly frustrating. Fucking infuriating, really.

The worst part is, I don’t know which way to go. The man she needs is not someone I was ever prepared to be. But the man I was could do so much to assist with what needs to be done. Add to that, the steps I need to take to save this town are who I tried so hard to become. Cool. Calculating.

Not emotional. Not passionate in the ways she makes me.

So much of what I worked for is slipping away. I’m being driven to change.

How can I deny her, though?

Not to mention that if I don’t change, if I lose her, what the fuck is the point? I’m just not sure I can succeed in fighting back against a madman without holding onto that sense of distance I used to have.

Letting out the animal within me was never an option until I met Hell.

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