12. Chapter Twelve Ruby
Chapter Twelve: Ruby
O f course he was still here…like a bad idea I couldn’t outrun.
I walked out of the ER with my hand wrapped in so much gauze it looked like a cartoon club, thick and awkward and already tugging at the stitches beneath. It ached. I ached. I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, and every muscle in my back was threatening to mutiny.
But he was still there.
Kieran didn’t say a word. Just emerged from the crowd in the waiting room like he’d been waiting for this moment—and then fell into step beside me like we’d planned it.
I didn’t look at him. Didn’t need to. I could feel his presence at my shoulder, the heat of him like static just under my skin. He didn’t ask if I needed help. He didn’t even ask if he could walk with me.
He just did.
Bastard.
“And here I thought hospitals are where you go to get rid of nasty viruses,” I muttered.
“Ouch, Rubes—rough words for the man who saved your life.”
“You didn’t save my life,” I said as we walked out into the cool night air. I shot a glance at him. “I would have been fine on my own.”
He winked. “You keep telling yourself that, Marquez.”
I made it to the driver’s side of my car and yanked open the door with my good hand, forcing myself into the seat like nothing hurt. It did. My hand pulsed with fire. I fumbled for the keys, trying to jam them into the ignition one-handed.
They slipped.
Of course they did.
The keys clattered to the floor, and I sat there, breathing hard, my forehead resting against the steering wheel. I felt him watching me through the window, hands in his pockets. Not gloating. Not smug.
Just…waiting.
Like he always did.
“Can you give me some space?” I asked Kieran.
Kieran shrugged. “I’m just standing here. I can barely hear you.”
“Shoo,” I said.
Kieran laughed, taking one tiny step back and leaning against the car in the spot next to mine.
I opened the door a crack and glared at him.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
I huffed in frustration, pressing the phone’s speed dial with my thumb. I didn’t have time to deal with him. Now that I was out of the ER, my main concern was my daughter. If Kieran wanted to hang around, I guessed that was his prerogative.
“Julian?” I said when he picked up.
"Hey, Ruby," he said. He sounded tired. "How’s your hand? Are you okay?"
"I didn't need surgery, so there's that. How's Rosie? Are you still at the office?"
He paused, probably hearing the exhaustion in my voice. “No; once the deposition was over, we came to the condo. You sure you're okay?”
“I—” I started, but stopped myself. “It’s fine. I just need you to bring Rosie home.”
There was a shuffle on his end, like he was pacing, or maybe chasing after her. “She’s already asleep. I think it’s best if she stays with me tonight. You had to show up to my office, with a nanny I've never seen before, when she was already running a high fever."
"You were in a deposition. Alek was picking up his sister from the airport. I did my best."
"You did the right thing, Ruby," he said. "It was annoying, but it was right. I can take care of our daughter tonight. You take care of yourself."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. He sounded too damn calm. “Jules, I can—”
“I know you can, Ruby,” he said, cutting me off. “But you need to rest, especially now. How are you going to look after her when you can't take care of yourself?"
“That’s rich coming from you,” I snapped. “Just bring her back.”
There was another pause, too long, and I knew he was trying to measure his words. “Ruby, don’t make this harder. She’s happy here. And you—you’re doing this to yourself.”
"I didn't break the fucking halogen lightbulb you insisted on installing, actually. That was all you," I said. "Can I talk to her?"
"She's asleep. I'll tell her you called."
“Fuck you, Julian.” The words came out before I could stop them, seething with more desperation than anger.
“I think what you mean to say is 'you're welcome'. Take care of yourself, seriously.” he said—pity laced through every word, like he was offering an olive branch.
I hung up, squeezing my eyes shut. My good hand shook as I tried to shove the phone into my pocket. Julian always played the same game, and I hated that I was always two steps behind.
Kieran uncrossed his arms, unfolding himself from the side of the car. He didn’t say anything, but there was a flicker in his eyes—amusement or pity, I couldn’t tell.
“Don’t,” I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Not one word.”
He didn’t smirk, didn’t push it. He just held my gaze, and I felt exposed, like I was back on the call with Julian, but this time it was Kieran holding the strings.
I stared at the steering wheel, knowing I should try again, but my body refused to move.
Finally, Kieran’s voice broke the silence. “Looks like you’re in a bit of a bind.”
I slammed my good fist against the dash—hard. Pain exploded through my knuckles, sharp enough to steal my breath. It didn’t help. It never fucking helped.
“Just fuck off,” I hissed, my eyes stinging.
There was a beat of silence. Then, casually:
“Cool, yeah. Maybe try not breaking your other hand though?”
I whipped around to glare at him. He didn’t even flinch—just stood there, infuriatingly calm, like this was any other night and not the goddamn unraveling of my entire life.
“Can’t do that,” he added, quieter now. “Not when you clearly need my help.”
And there it was. Not pity. Not even gloating.
Just certainty.
The kind that wrapped around you like gravity.
I rolled my eyes, but he opened the door wider and scooped up my keys. “Okay,” he said. “I’m driving.”
“Seriously?” I groaned. “Kieran, I thought you were my stalker, not my chauffeur.”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sweetheart,” he teased. “Do you need my help getting out?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said, biting down an angry retort. I stepped out of my car and walked to the passenger side, my heart beating so fast I thought I might faint.
The key turned in the ignition, and my car started with a low rumble. Kieran settled into the driver’s seat like he belonged there. I glared at him, but he had this calm, collected look that I wanted to punch right off his face.
“Relax,” he said, like he was doing me a favor. “I know where you live.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking,” he replied.
I sank into the seat, feeling the weight of the day press down on me.
I wasn’t used to being the passenger—not in life, not in anything.
The air inside the car was thick, each second swelling with silence.
I wanted to fill it with something, maybe more harsh words, but I was drained.
Instead, I focused on the city lights streaming past the window, all blurred and distant.
Minutes ticked by, and I tried to convince myself he was taking me home. This was temporary. I just needed to get through the night. But then we hit a main street, and Kieran veered away from my neighborhood, my place falling further behind with every turn.
I clenched my teeth. “Where the hell are you going?”
Kieran didn’t even flinch. “You can’t drive, and your kid’s not home. You really wanna sit alone all night feeling sorry for yourself?”
My hands were fists in my lap, one wrapped in bandages, the other just as useless. “I’d rather sit in an empty house than be near you.”
He gave me a sidelong glance, more amused than anything. “That’s a lie.”
I looked away, watching the buildings bleed into one another. A part of me wanted to lash out, to grab the wheel and force it back to where I wanted, but the rest of me knew he was right.
And that made it worse.
I hated that he was right.
Kieran kept driving, unbothered by my silence. He had this way of making everything seem like it was going according to some plan, like he had me all figured out.
“Besides,” he said, and his voice was maddeningly casual, “you don’t want anyone to see a Callahan dropping you off at home.”
My jaw tightened. If anyone caught sight of me leaving Kieran’s car, if Julian found out, it would be a mess—a mess I couldn’t afford. The press would eat it up. My opponents would love it. I’d be the DA cozying up to the mob.
He knew it. I knew it.
And I was stuck.
“I hate you,” I muttered, staring hard at the passing lights.
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Kieran turned down a narrow street, a dumb smirk on his face. “And yet, here we are.”
We weren’t far.
The car sat in the driveway, both of us unmoving. Kieran looked at me, his eyes saying everything. The house loomed, a silent challenge, and my stubbornness warred with exhaustion. I couldn’t tell if the pain in my hand was worse than the bruising on my pride.
He had lived in an apartment when we had been seeing each other back in the day and it had been nice. But this Brownstone was incredibly impressive, with a yellow painted facade and seven steps leading up to the double brown doors, vines on the fence outside.
“New apartment?” I said, though I knew the answer before he spoke.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “This is my house.”
“I’m not going to ask how you can afford this.”
“Good. That seems incredibly personal. And you know how private I am,” he said, winking at me. “Anyway, are you going to get out or are we sleeping in the car?”
I shoved the door open with my shoulder, trying not to wince as I stepped out.
Kieran climbed out of the driver’s seat, locking the car behind us like I’d somehow make a run for it. He moved toward the steps of his brownstone, expecting me to follow. I hesitated, lingering by the car, but the sharp pulse in my hand reminded me I had nowhere else to go.
“Are you coming, or do you want me to carry you?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.