Page 45 of Out to Get Her
“Good answer,” Erin said. “I just have one more question.”
Samantha braced herself. “Okay, shoot.”
“Why do you want to be police chief, anyway?” There was no derision in Erin’s voice. No judgment. Only curiosity, like she was trying to solve the puzzle that was Samantha. “That job seems like an awful lot of political crap. Do you actually like that kind of stuff.”
That Samantha could answer.
“Not at all. It is a lot of political crap, but that’s part of why I want the job.”
“Now I’m really confused,” Erin said.
“I want to do what I can to separate the politics from the police department. Unlike Jordan, I don’t plan on playing any power games or dealing in favors.”
If anyone knew how favors and family benefits worked, it was Samantha. She’d seen it through her own family, then witnessed the same things after she married into Nathan’s family.
Erin was quiet for a long while, then she said, “Trey told me about how you helped him instead of charging him after his accident. I’m sure there are a whole bunch more stories like that of you doing the right thing. But Sam, you have to know you can’t change it all by yourself. And not because you aren’t good enough, but because it won’t always be you who shows up when someone needs help. The system might be too messed up for you to fix alone.”
“I know.” Samantha hiccuped, the perfect excuse to swallow the sob that had been building. “I know I’m probably being naïve. But I have to try.”
There was a long stretch of silence between them. Too long. Samantha was afraid that sob might escape after all.
“You, Samantha Keller Ardoin, are a much better person than I am,” Erin said with a soft laugh. “When I want to burn down the patriarchy, I don’t try to fix it. I light a match and take the whole town down with me.”
Samantha grabbed her beer. “Once again, Icannothear this.”
They both smiled, though, and each took another sip.
“Okay, my turn for a question.”
Jeez, she needed to slow down. The pitch of her voice and the uptick in speed of the words tumbling out of her mouth were the equivalent of speaking in emojis.
“All right.” Erin leaned back in her chair and wiped the crumbs—all that was left of her beloved BLT—from her hands. “Your turn. Shoot.”
“Why’d you wait so long to come home?”
The whole vibe deflated with that question. Even Dexter grunted and hung his head over her thigh.
That was her. On brand. Buzz Kill Sam.
Instead of rightfully telling her to take a hike, Erin considered the question. Eventually, she found an answer she was satisfied with. “It hurt too much.”
That wasn’t the answer Samantha had expected. She didn’t know what exactly she’d expected, but it wasn’t that.
“I meant to, to visit Grandpa from time to time, but I couldn’t bring myself to come back to a town that had never wanted me in the first place.”
“But you had him. Your grandfather,” Samantha said. “And Zach.”
And me.
But they’d been barely acquaintances, much less friends, so she didn’t add herself to the list. Admittedly, it was a short list.
“I called him. A lot. Well, a lot for me. And I wanted to see him, but I just didn’t.” She took a big breath and exhaled, long and slow. “Then it was too late.” She averted her eyes and blinked a few times. “I know everyone probably thinks I was just being selfish or whatever in not coming to the funeral, but I was in bed for a full week. Crying. Taking pills. Trying to figure out why the universe hates me so much. Why it would take everything from me, and then find a way to take even more.”
Blinking could no longer stop the tears, and Samantha watched helplessly while Erin wiped them away.
She wasn’t exaggerating. The universe really had taken so much from her. First as a little girl when she’d lost her parents.
It had been such a freak accident. Samantha remembered hearing the explosion. The counselors who’d been brought in for students struggling to process the accident. The funerals. The endless string of reports that made the national news.
