Chapter 28—Ruby
“Get dressed,” he barks at me.
I just raise an eyebrow. “Get bent.”
Oh, he doesn’t like that. His whole body seems to inflate from the deep breath to… I don’t know. Calm down? He doesn’t seem calm. Not one little bit. Kind of like me.
Feeling like shit after a night out only means one thing: running till you throw up to teach yourself a lesson.
At least, that was the plan. I rolled out of bed this morning, ignoring everything around me, including what was sticky on my legs.
Gross, I know, but I just needed out. So I grabbed my running stuff and left.
I should have brought music or something, but I was in such a rush to escape before anyone told me I couldn’t that I didn’t think.
I left Kooper naked in my bed and went running, pushing myself hard so I wouldn’t think so damn much. I didn’t want to do anything but focus on breathing. But my head hurt the entire time. So much that I was begging to throw up, but I didn’t. There was nothing in my stomach to do so.
So I pushed on, forgetting anything and everything. If I had timed myself, I might have gotten a new personal record out of it. But I left my watch at home in my rush.
When I got back, I was left staring at a glaring Kooper standing in my kitchen, with his shirt off and his jeans on but the top button unfastened.
A yummy sight for sure.
And then everything came rushing back. What happened last night.
What happened at the hospital. My anger at everything I was hoping to avoid for as long as I could just surfaced unbidden.
And no one else was around to let it out on, so he got it.
And took it. And still I wanted to drag him close and climb him like a pole.
But I can’t do that. So I glare and tell him to fuck off. Something he doesn’t do. Typical.
“Casper called Church.”
“So?” How does that have anything to do with me? It never has before. One night of dicking—no matter how fantastic and amazing it was—doesn’t mean I’m riding on the back of his bike everywhere he goes. The guy’s whacked in the head if he thinks that.
“He wants you there too.”
This has my jaw dropping. Literally. “I’m not some damn dog who gets called into the house like a good little boy. Tell Casper to fuck off. I’m not part of the club, and he can’t tell me shit.”
“You’re either coming on your own, or I’m dragging you there. Figure it out while I shower.” He goes into my room and comes out a second later before heading into the bathroom. “And if you think for one goddamn second about running, I’ll chase you down and strap you to my damn bike.”
He slams the door to the bathroom, and I glare as I see Natalie jump. She’s still here. Listening and watching all this bullshit and not saying anything. She looks at me, and I sigh. I’m over all this drama, and it’s not even eight in the morning.
“I think we need coffee,” she says before going into the kitchen and starting a pot.
Some days I don’t trust her. Things she does or says make me question her. Especially with everything that went down with Abigail and then the club lying about Dad. It’s easier to question things now. To question people. Things I might have only thought odd before are now suspicious.
Like when she sees a random person and just goes off on them, telling them to back up when I never even saw them get close to her.
It’s like a switch that flips in her brain.
It seems random at best when it happens.
And then she disappears for a few days. Not completely gone, just avoiding me and locking her door and shit.
But when she comes over and hands me a cup of coffee fixed how I like, I can’t help but be grateful that she’s in my life right now.
I might not know her, not everything. But when I need her?
She seems always to be there, even if I do keep her at arm’s length and don’t tell her a lot. Similar to what she does with me.
It’s probably why I decide now is the time to share. Because after everything that went down this morning, Nat was content to just sit on the couch and drink coffee in silence with me.
“I think I raped Koop.”
The amount of coffee that spews over our table is hilarious. Disgusting and not something I want to clean, but funny all the same.
“I’m sorry, what?” She shakes her head as she sets down her mug and wipes off the liquid she spat out on herself.
“He said to stop, but I stuck it in any way.”
Last night, I was cognitive. I was horny like I’ve never been horny before in my life, but I was able to make up my own mind.
I could have opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out my nighttime toy.
I could have used my own hand. Or hell, gone into the shower and used the detachable spray.
It’s always hit all the right spots before.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I begged. Something I never thought I would do in my life. I begged and pleaded. And when that didn’t get me an immediate answer, I pounced. I took matters into my own hands and made sure he couldn’t refuse.
That’s probably why he was so mad at me this morning.
I got him drugged. I know he was as messed up as I was.
Maybe it was a different reaction for him, though.
Maybe he wasn’t all there like I was, and I took advantage.
I forced him to do something he hated, and when I woke up, the spell was broken.
But then why did he wake you in the middle of night to do it again? Why did he call you Peaches if he was forced? Why did he grab your hips and keep you there as he pounded into you?
My brain is telling me it was a mistake. My heart? Well, that bitch is saying something else. Something I’m not ready for. Especially not after I just cut myself off from my dad and the club.
That was the plan last night, anyway. Leaving the hospital, calling Nat, and going out was meant to be my big “welcome to reality” party.
A party where I said goodbye to club life and hello to townie life.
Sure, I got drugged on my first big adventure, but that’s just how life goes.
Just when you think it can’t get worse, it does.
But it didn’t. Kooper showed. He stayed. He’s here.
I shake my head at my heart’s speech. Some people say it’s your conscience that talks to you.
I say it’s your heart. She and my brain are usually on the same page, so I rarely have these internal arguments.
But that seems to be something of the past. No more peaceful moments with everything in sync. Now it’s all out of balance and shit.
“I doubt he saw it like that.”
I shrug. “Guys are weird. If they get raped, I bet they tell themselves they wanted to do it anyway or something.”
Nat shakes her head. “Trust me, girl. Kooper wasn’t raped by you or anyone last night. He has, what, a hundred-plus pounds on you? You really think you could have overpowered him and forced him to do something?”
I bite my lip, and my shrug is smaller as I sink lower into the couch. “We were drugged.”
“Again, have you seen that man? Goliath doesn’t even begin to describe him.
He had your drink. Which was already like a third gone from what you drank of it.
Who knows what was in it? Even then, I highly doubt that there was enough in there to affect you and him the same.
It doesn’t make sense in a scientific way at all.
The math doesn’t add up. Trust me, if the guy wanted to stop it, he could have. ”
I let her words sink in and really listen to them. It quiets parts of my brain I didn’t know were screaming at me till then.
“So….” I look at her as she picks up her drink, taking smaller sips than before, I note. “You and Kooper really had sex?”
On any other day, I would have pointed out the obviousness of her question. Like the fact that I just admitted it. Or that I’m sure she heard it, and that’s what had her sleeping in past her 7:00 a.m. ritual wake-up time.
But all I do is nod. And when the shower cuts off, I look at the bathroom door. I feel something on the horizon. Something big is coming, and I don’t know how I feel about it. Either with the club, or with Kooper, or both.
And I don’t know if I like it or hate it.
“Want to go for a drive?”
“You want me to go to the club?” Her eyes bug out.
I get it. I haven’t invited her there in months.
Not with how things have been going. But I need a friend, and I’m not sure how many I have at the club anymore.
I pushed a lot of people away. I don’t plan on building bridges today either, which means I’m about to burn a few more.
And I think I might need some help in the getaway process when I do.
The bathroom door opens and Kooper walks out, pulling on the same shirt from yesterday.
I would offer him one of the club’s tees I’ve stolen over the years.
I make sure to get the extra large; they make comfy sleep shirts and loungewear, as they’re soft as hell, and when they’re that big, shorts aren’t needed.
It hangs so low I can walk bare underneath if I want and none would be the wiser.
But I don’t because I don’t live alone, and going without underwear feels weird.
“Leaving in ten.”
I stand, putting my empty coffee mug in the sink and my empty Gatorade bottle in the trash. “Nat’s coming.”
His back is to me as he bends over his phone.
I see him tense before he looks at me over his shoulder, then at Nat.
She’s biting her lip and holding her coffee as if she were about to sip it.
Not sure if he sees the mess on the coffee table or not.
He could have heard us, but I don’t think so.
Kooper snoops to keep me safe, not to just be nosy. Or I hope not.
“Ten.” That’s all he says as he walks to my room.
Nat looks at me and nods. “Right. I’ll go get changed. You take a shower, and I’ll….” She looks at the coffee table and her nose wrinkles. “I’ll clean this. Think he’d be willing to stop on the way for breakfast?”
“He better. I’m close to dying if I don’t get a breakfast taco soon. With more bacon on it than what comes out of a pig.”
“Yuck. You’re gross.” She laughs at the thought but goes to get changed.
I head to my room, glancing at Kooper as he sits on my unmade bed and laces up his boots. An unmade bed with my panties hanging off one side and my pasties next to it. I look back at him and see he’s watching me take it all in.
I should make a joke about it. Something like how I expect him to clean up after or at least make the bed when he sleeps in it. But a single eyebrow raise lets me know he’s not in the mood for any smart comments right now.
So I turn and open my drawers, pulling out my normal clothes. Kooper might be bringing me in, but it’s on my terms. And in my way. No one will know anything is different. No one will see a girl who’s done with everything. Or someone confused about what last night meant.
No one will see the coward I’ve become as I tuck tail and go into the bathroom to shut everyone and everything out. They’ll see what they always see. What I make sure they see.
A woman who knows what she wants. Who takes no crap from anyone. Who’s untouchable. Who doesn’t cry. Who can stand on her own feet without a man, father or other, holding her hand.
That’s what they’ll see. I just have to hold that image for a little while. Just long enough to make them believe.
Just long enough for Kooper to not see under the mask. Seeing that while I was broken last night, he made me whole after. That being his, even with the drugs, having him call me something other than Ruby, was what I needed. What I’ll dream about later in the night when I sleep alone.
That my desire to be more than what I am now is just that.
And I won’t look for it to be a reality.
Even if it felt like that all night. Like I could be someone new.
Someone strong and willing to break away from what I forced myself to be once I learned Dad wasn’t going to let me in the club.
When Mom left me and Dad had to raise someone who wasn’t a boy, and he had to be soft when he wasn’t the soft type.
He could be caring and sweet, but he was never Mom. We both knew that. His love was more than tough love, but it wasn’t sweet like a mother’s. We made it work.
Till we didn’t. He doesn’t love me anymore. He doesn’t know me. How can you love someone you don’t know?
They say he could regain his memory. And maybe one day he will. But till then, I don’t think I’m strong enough to love him for both of us. I’m not even strong enough to love myself right now.
Loving for two seems impossible.
As I wash away my fears, hopes of what I thought the future would be so many months ago, I feel small stings of pain from the soap on my skin. Parts of me where Kooper’s nail went a bit too deep. Where his teeth left a bit too much bite.
The pain recedes, and with it comes a thought. I don’t know if it’s from my head or my heart, but it’s there. That the pain is the past leaving. And the bruises? The scabs? They’re the start of something new.
Something new with someone new.
Not new in my life, but new in my mind. New in my heart. Or maybe he was always there in some way before. I just didn’t know it till now. I never unlocked that type of pain before. Maybe I couldn’t. Perhaps releasing Dad and my past is what I need to move forward.
Or maybe I’m still so fucked up on drugs that I don’t know anything anymore.
“Two minutes, Ruby.” A bang on the door has me shutting off the water.
If it were Dad, I’d take my time. But it’s not. It’s him. Kooper. A man who shouldn’t be in my house, or in my bed. One who shouldn’t even be on my mind. And one who especially shouldn’t be leaving himself behind in small parts after coming inside me last night.
The thought of being pregnant is a passing scare.
One I don’t think about more than a second.
The mark on my underarm from my birth control reassures me enough not to worry about it.
I got it a while back, and the doctors said it would make my life simpler.
At the time, I was thinking about being regular, but I guess this is what they had more in mind. No fuss, no baby mess.
’Cause being pregnant right now will just fuck things up. Even more than they already are. And that’s already too much as it is.