I wished we could turn on the radio for distraction, though. Answering every one of Wilder’s cheeky barbs with something equally witty was taking way more energy than I had to give. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to be so on for him, but it was easier to be clever than to be honest.
Silence fell again, and this time I was brutally aware of every second of it. I wondered what he was thinking and what he thought I was thinking. And that terrible circle of pointlessness kept nagging at me until he cleared his throat.
“Sooooo. Tell me about you and Cash.”
As awful as that idea sounded, it was better than talking about what was on my mind and better than sitting here quietly torturing myself.
“What do you want to know?”
Based on the face he made, I gathered he was hoping I would declare the topic off-limits and he’d be able to get away without actually hearing about my love life. Well, tough shit for him. He’d asked, and I was desperate for distraction.
“Uh. I guess…how did you guys meet?”
“Fraternity party.”
Wilder choked on a mouthful of coffee, then exaggerated the hacking, beating his chest like he was dying of shock.
“Oh, simmer down,” I scolded. “I was trying to live a normal college life, you know. I thought about joining a sorority, ended up at the party. I kept the boyfriend, ditched Greek life.”
“At least you made one smart decision.”
“I’ve been known to on occasion. Other times I do really boneheaded stuff like running off with half-cocked mechanics on their crazy rescue missions.”
“I am all-cocked, thank you.”
He didn’t bat an eyelash and kept on looking at Deerling’s house as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.
What a guy.
“I have a hard time picturing you in head-to-toe pink, drinking daiquiris and hazing freshmen,” he said.
“So did I. Turns out they only wanted me to pledge because they considered me a minority. They thought having a werewolf in the house would be good for diversity. I said fuck that. But hey, was that…almost a compliment? Coming from you, anyway?”
“Hey now, Princess. Let’s not get carried away.”
My response died short when movement at the front of Deerling’s house caught my attention. I slipped my half-finished coffee into a cup holder, and my fingers hovered over the keys, ready to start the engine at a moment’s notice.
“Hold on.” Wilder put his hand over mine, and we both watched the house, though my pulse was going crazy. “We don’t know if it’s even him. Don’t rush, we might spook him.”
I let my hand fall to my lap, but Wilder’s stayed on top of it, a warm reminder of his presence. It took me a second to realize he was comforting me, keeping me calm. I darted a quick glance at him, but he was totally focused on the house. How could Ben believe Wilder was capable of murder? How had I believed it? It made me feel sick to my stomach that I’d let my brother’s prejudice taint my opinion of Wilder so easily.
Focus.
My attention veered back to the house where Timothy had gotten into his own car, a ridiculously fancy tan Mercedes Benz. That car probably cost more than most of the homes in Franklinton. It was a strange sensation for me
to begrudge someone with wealth since I was too rich for my own good. Yet Callum never lauded our wealth over anyone. We provided for the pack. He made handsome donations to the local church and other charities. Hell, he’d helped rebuild the old five-and-dime he’d loved as a kid, converted it into a convenience store and arcade that was doing solid business in St. Francisville. We used our money for good.
Timothy Deerling bought himself a Mercedes with the Church’s online earnings and let his town die around him.
Considering I already hated the man, I was looking for any reason to let my rage fester. But I really hated the guy. He was convincing his parishioners we were monsters and was spreading a cultish gospel of fear. There was nothing redeeming about him as far as I could—
A woman stepped out onto the front porch, her belly round with pregnancy and her loose summer dress billowing in the light breeze. She pushed her long dark hair off her face and smiled at his car, waving as he drove away.
Must be Shannon, the wife Josie had mentioned.
Shannon’s soft voice carried through our open windows as she laughed and said something to him, though the words were unclear.
She sounded happy.