13. Chapter Thirteen Kieran
Chapter Thirteen: Kieran
R uby was here.
In my living room.
She was sleeping, in my living room, and I was trying my best to forget that she was right there. She had fallen asleep while I was making some tea and I had thrown a blanket on her as I wondered if I should carry her to a guest bedroom. She would have been pissed.
She would have been angry even if I’d spent the night on the floor next to her—though a part of me desperately wanted to.
So instead, I pretended everything was normal as I got ready for bed and tossed and turned as I thought about her until sleep finally claimed me.
I woke up at three a.m., my body dragging my mind into awareness.
It was like I’d been pulled from a deep pit, the night air still pressing heavy and close around me.
I sat up, ran a hand through my hair, let my eyes adjust to the darkness.
Ruby. The thought of her scraped at the edge of my consciousness, prickling like a splinter just under the skin.
Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw the curls around her heart-shaped face, the galaxy of freckles over her pretty nose.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and paused there for a moment, taking in the faint outlines of the room.
The digital clock’s red glow cast an eerie light, pulsing with each passing second.
I let out a long breath, trying to shake off the feeling clinging to my bones.
I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep until I checked on her.
The hardwood was cool underfoot as I headed down the stairs, shadows stretching and twisting along the walls. The quiet was oppressive, the kind that made you hyper-aware of every creak and breath. I kept moving, each step measured, the need to see Ruby awake in my gut like a lead weight.
When I reached the living room, she was still on the couch, a bundle of limbs and tension against the cushions.
Even in sleep, her body didn’t relax; she shifted slightly, brows drawn, like she was fighting ghosts in her dreams. Her bandaged hand was on top of the blanket, the glaringly white gauze catching in the moonlight.
She looked so small, so fragile.
She looked like mine .
The thought hit me fast and hard, sending me reeling. I’d been trying to be decent all day, but standing there, watching her like this…? My thoughts wandered.
Just for a second, I imagined walking over, brushing the curls from her cheek. Kneeling down beside her and kissing her wrist where the bandages stopped. Lifting her into my arms and carrying her upstairs…because she would be more comfortable in my bed.
She would be more comfortable after I’d had my mouth on her, after my cock was inside her. After I’d given her an orgasm or three, or ten.
“Jesus,” I growled, rubbing my hand down my face and forcing myself to walk away.
The kitchen felt like a different world, its white light a shock to my senses as I turned on the overhead.
I took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, watching as it overflowed slightly, slipping down the sides and pouring over my knuckles.
The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound, underscoring the silence like a bass line.
I drank a glass of water as I heard her move. “Kieran?”
“Hey,” I said, not looking—because it would be too much temptation to look right now, right after indulging in those dirty fantasies. “Are you thirsty?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going back to sleep.”
I grabbed another glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice water to go back to the living room.
Ruby stirred as I entered, eyes blinking open, confusion and awareness battling for dominance before her gaze found my bare chest and traveled down to my waist…
to where my sweats did little to hide what I was packing underneath.
I held out the glass, a single word cutting through the still air: “Drink.”
She grumbled, but the sound was soft. Her fingers brushed mine as she took the glass, and fuck…I wanted to keep touching her. I never wanted to stop.
We didn’t say anything, but the silence buzzed between us, thick with everything we weren’t saying. I settled into the couch across from her, feeling the weight of the night all over again. It pressed down, threatening to suffocate. I didn’t think either of us breathed for a long time.
“Did I wake you?” I asked, knowing I had.
“Yeah, but don’t worry,” she said. “I haven’t had a very good night. Thanks for the water.”
The glow from the streetlamp cast shadows across the living room, stretching them long and thin until they bled into one.
I leaned against the arm of the couch and watched Ruby.
She sat with one leg tucked under her, like she used to back when things were simple.
She was quiet now, her brow furrowed, as if trying to decide whether to speak or stay the hell away.
Eventually, she looked up, met my gaze. “Why are you even helping me?”
There were plenty of answers. Because it helps me. Because this can lead to ruining you. Because this is my job.
I should have deflected. I should have at least lied. Instead, I found myself saying, “Didn’t like seeing you hurt.”
She let out a sharp laugh. It was biting, a little cruel. “That’s new.”
“Maybe.” I didn’t look away. Silence stretched, and the city outside hummed low and restless. I watched the way her fingers played with a loose thread on the t-shirt she wore, a nervous tick I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Earlier, at my house,” Ruby started again, eyes narrowing. “You were the last person I expected.”
“I told you. I didn’t like seeing you hurt.”
“And I told you,” she shot back, “that I can handle myself.” Her intensity matched mine, but I saw the crack beneath.
“I know you can,” I said. It came out too soft. I didn’t mean it to. I shifted on the couch, leaned forward, like that would somehow keep the conversation from going any deeper. Her brow was still furrowed, still deciding. “How’s your hand? Does it hurt?”
“Yeah, the bandages keep catching on the blanket and it pulls at my skin,” she said. “That’s probably why I can’t sleep. If you drive me home now, no one will see you.”
“Just sleep here. I’ll drive you home before dawn,” I told her. “I promise.”
“Okay, because…”
“I know. You can handle yourself. You keep saying.”
“Why are you helping me now?” she asked. “You know, years ago…I needed you, Kieran.”
I shook my head. “We were never that serious.”
She was quiet for a while. Longer than I expected. “How many times did I try calling?”
I looked down, eyes tracing the hardwood. I remembered every call, every message left unread. There were reasons. Just not the kind you could say out loud. Not the kind you could tell someone who worked for the DA, no matter how beautiful she was or how much I enjoyed spending time with her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should’ve at least called. But you’re kidding yourself if you think it would have changed anything. This was always how we ended, Ruby.”
“Then why did you show up outside my door when I was bleeding?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end.
“I could’ve handled this myself, but you just…
you just came into my life like you’re allowed to.
Like I haven’t repeatedly told you to stay away.
But you were stalking me, waiting for something to happen, and…
you waited. You waited for me to falter, and you pounced.
I know how you work, Kieran. I’m not stupid. ”
“You’re not stupid. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met,” I said, then sighed. “Look, I…I shouldn’t have shown up. Should’ve stayed away.”
I let the words fill the space between us, fill all the other spaces she was trying to.
“But you didn’t.” Her lips curved up, a hint of a smile with too much sadness behind it.
“You think I don’t know what this is?” I asked, hating the way my voice was starting to sound like hers.
Wrecked.
We were just…all used up and broken. Nothing to salvage.
Ruby let out a laugh that was somewhere between a cough and a sob.
“I keep asking you questions like it’ll change something…but does it matter?” Her lips pressed together, a thin line, before she sighed. “Does any of this actually fucking matter?”
“Yes. Yes, it matters,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because time didn’t stop when I dropped off the map,” I say. “Because you’re sitting there…and I’m sitting here. And I don’t think whatever we had died.”
She held my gaze, took another sip of her water.
But there was no water left in her glass.
The room was still. Too still. The kind of still that doesn’t soothe, just crackles. Ruby shifted, her leg extending so that her foot just barely brushed against mine across the space between us.
She didn’t move away.
And I—God help me—I didn’t either.
I let my eyes drag over her like a confession. The line of her jaw. The way her lips parted, like she almost wanted to say something. She didn’t.
But I couldn’t sit still anymore.
I stood. Crossed the distance between us in a few quiet steps. Then I dropped to my knees in front of her. My hands found hers, and I held them gently, like something sacred…something breakable. I wanted her to know that even when she was hurt, I would never cause her pain again.
It was a lie, of course…I’d come back into her life with the express purpose of causing her pain.
But tonight I didn’t care.
“Do you want me to drive you home now?” I asked.
Ruby was so close now—close enough that I could feel her breath disturb my hair, see her throat work as she swallowed. Her t-shirt hung loose around her shoulders. She looked tired, bruised, beautiful. “No.”
“Then tell me to stop. Please tell me to stop.”
Her eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and sharp and hungry . “No.”
That one word cracked the world open.
She moved first—fast, fierce, furious with need. Her good hand fisted in my hair and pulled; the bandaged one gripping my shoulder like she couldn’t bear the thought of letting me go. She yanked me forward and devoured me.