Page 52 of Frank's Felon
Tess turned to Damien, her face determined as ever. “She had every right. You’d do no less.”
Damien’s hand traced down Tess’s jaw in a way that showed he was sorry for what he was about to say and do. “Normally, I’d agree with you and Frank, Sweetness, but there’s more you haven’t heard.” Damien approached Delilah. “Do you want to tell them, or shall I?”
Delilah was wringing her hands. “They sentenced me to life,” she said in a small voice as she focused on Damien alone. She looked inward for her wolf to give her the strength she needed to continue. One look at Tess—and Frank, her dear, sweet Frank—and she was sure she’d crumble. Her wolf had gone into hiding, the coward, and Delilah wished she could do the same.
Delilah glanced at Tess, which was a mistake. Tess appeared pale, as if she was about to be sick. Delilah refused to look at Frank, to see the disappointment she was sure she’d see in his face.
“I spent a year in prison. Thought I’d die there. I didn’t really care at that point, Tessie. I thought everyone was dead.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” Tess said, approaching.
Delilah backed away from her and instinctively sought out Frank. Warm amber eyes held her. She wanted to smile, to let him know that she loved everything about him, and that she was sorry for everything she had done, but she couldn’t. She hadn’t told him everything as she should have, but trust was hard. Caring, loving. . . those were even harder. Now she was going to lose him forever.
“Three months ago, I learned you were alive. So, I broke out of prison.”
Damien slammed the pile of papers onto the coffee table, making Delilah jump. “You didn’t simply break out. That we could have dealt with. You killed the fucking warden.”
* * *
FRANK
Frank couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Damien had to be wrong. Delilah wouldn’t have killed an innocent, no matter what the circumstance. That wasn’t in her nature. Frank knew her better than anyone, even Tess.
He scooped up the papers and read the report. The first page had a photo of a human with claw marks on his torso and bruising around the neck. Delilah had broken the man’s neck. The next photo was of Delilah leaving an office with the designation Warden M. Anderson on it and a prison keycard on a lanyard hanging from her neck. The time stamp on the photo matched the time of death noted in the coroner’s report.
“Why?” Frank asked Delilah.
She stopped her fidgeting and smoothed her hands down her jeans as she straightened her back and looked him straight in his eyes. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
“Of course, it matters!” Frank said, storming toward her.
“Why? Are you afraid to find out I’m the cold-hearted killer everyone believes I am? Fine. I’ll tell you why I killed him. Because I didn’t want to be stuck there another day. I didn’t deserve to be there after what they’d done to my family and pack.”
“This human didn’t do anything except his job. He was an innocent,” Frank shouted back.
Her eyes flared and the first sign of tears clouded her eyes. “I guess this just proves you never really know a person, right? After all, you’re afraid to tell your alpha how you feel about what he did, and I’ve been hiding my past from my sister for a really long time.”
“And me. You hid this from me,” Frank added, mad that she hadn’t told him. Mad that nothing made sense. She couldn’t have killed the warden, but the photo, the reports and her own words said otherwise.
“No, Lily. . .” Tess said, moving toward her, until Damien pulled her against him.
“Don’t you dare look down on me!” Delilah shouted. “I did what I had to, to survive. Like always. I’ve had enough of shifters and humans using me, and I won’t put up with it anymore!”
Delilah shifted and leapt through the window. Glass shattered everywhere. Mason shifted, but Frank was faster, turning on him with such a growl that Mason held his position. Frank’s wolf leapt through the window and took off after Delilah. He never thought he’d have to hunt down the woman he loved, to return her to justice.
Chapter Twelve
FRANK
Despite his longer stride, Frank had trouble catching up to Delilah. She was wicked fast, but she had nowhere to go and no way to hide from him in the forest, not when he knew her scent so well. Frank found Delilah eight miles from camp, standing in her human form on the edge of a cliff on one of the highest points in the area.
Fear wrapped around Frank like a noose. Delilah was terrified of heights, and yet she stood there on the edge, as if she planned on doing the unthinkable. Hell, even if she didn’t plan to jump, a strong gust of wind could knock her over the edge, an edge that even now was crumbling beneath her left foot. Tiny pebbles rolled over the cliff, striking the rock face once or twice before disappearing without a sound.
The fall was too far to survive, even for a shifter. His wolf whined and nipped at him, desperate for him to take action, to pull her to safety.
“Delilah. . . baby, move away from there.”
Her back to him, she was staring over the edge. Frank stepped closer.
