Dead Ever After Re-write (Sookie Stackhouse and Eric Northman)

Chapter 8

A quick note: I stopped writing this story a while back due to personal problems, but now I'm back and ready to continue the story. I changed chapters 5, 6, and 7 with new scenes because we needed them for the upcoming chapters. So, if you are a new reader, then just continue reading the story. However, if you are a returning reader, feel free to go back and read those chapters so you can get acquainted with the changes. Thank you for your support!!!!

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I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter. I want to thank everybody who took the time to read the story. I am definitely enjoying this and I hope you're enjoying it too. J

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of these characters. The original story and the characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I am only borrowing them for a little while.

Chapter 8

While Eric and Pam were dead to the world healing... Sookie was...

I slept only four hours and woke up to a summer day that mocked me with its beauty. The downpour had washed everything, cooled the air, and renewed the green of the grass and the trees. The delicate pink of the old crepe myrtle was unfurling. The cannas would be open soon. I felt like Hell hungover.

But today was bad enough and I could think of nothing to look forward to. Somehow I had to pull out of this state of unhappiness. I couldn't struggle through many days like this.

I tried to think of another good thing to anticipate. Tara would be coming home from the hospital today, and I should cook a meal for her, but there was no time. Tonight I had to find Eric.

I thought about my day today and I was already dreading it, but I must keep my mind occupied until night time. Today was going to be a long day for sure.

First, I checked the news on the computer, but no arrest had been made in Kym Rowe's murder. Detective Ambroselli said, "The police are not close to an arrest, but we're pursuing several leads. Meanwhile, if anyone saw anything in the Clearwater Cove area that night, please call our hotline." So, it would be interesting to hear if Bill and Heidi had found out anything, and it would be interesting-maybe-to ask the writer, Harp Powell, why he was going around with the Rowes. I'd had the feeling he was a cut or two above what he seemed to be doing-making a quick buck off the murder of a young, self-destructive stripper.

Without any news on the murder case, I had to move on with the rest of my day. Merlotte was waiting for me. The lockers for the employee area were supposed to come today on the truck. That would be fun.

The parking lot was not too full yet, but soon it would be with lunch time fast approaching. I goaded and prodded myself into preparation and went in the back door of Merlotte's full of grim determination.

As I tied on my apron, I felt my mouth curve up in my worst smile, the one that sent out "I'm crazy" signals all over the place. It had been a long time since I'd worn that particular smile. I made a round of my tables and realized Sam wasn't behind the bar, Maybe he and Jannalynn the Terrible had gone to Arkansas to get a marriage license. I stopped dead in my tracks, the smile turning into a scowl. Pivoting on my heel, I shot out the back door of Merlotte's. Sam's truck wasn't at his trailer.

In the middle of the employee parking lot I clapped my cell phone to my ear after punching my speed dial.

After two rings, Sam answered.

"Where are you?" I snarled. If I was here being unhappy, Sam should be here, too. Weren't we sort-of partners?

"I took another day off," he said, now clued in about my mood. He was only pretending to be casual.