Chapter Twelve
Kylo
For a few sickening moments, watching Rue move back and forth from the truck to the SUVs with guns piled in her arms, I thought maybe Caymen and Huck were right. That she was in on it. That she was some sort of criminal mastermind and amazing actress.
Some part of me refused to take what I was seeing at face value, though.
I grabbed the binoculars and looked away from her, watching as several men moved into the shop… then started tossing shit to the ground, smashing pots under their heels, laughing all the time.
I focused back on the remaining men outside, spotting the leader—the Marco fuck with a rap sheet as long as my arm, according to our research from Arty, the hacker the club worked with.
He was watching Rue, his eyes hard, his jaw tight.
Like he was angry with her over something.
When I zeroed in on Rue’s face in the binoculars, I saw what I’d missed before.
She was fucking terrified.
My guts twisted.
I didn’t realize what I was doing until I almost opened the door.
The interior light would go on.
My hiding spot would be revealed.
And shit could go seriously sideways fast.
I pulled my hand into my lap as I looked around again.
The door of Vital Greens opened and a confused, scared Ernest came barreling out. He must have been terrified too, because I’d never seen the dog move at more than a slow trot before.
He was hauling ass.
If he got lost, Rue was going to fucking melt down.
I kept my gaze between Rue and Ernest, my pulse slamming, my mind racing.
I hated sitting there.
Doing nothing.
Letting this shit happen.
For a long while, Rue was out of sight.
Then, suddenly, I saw her walking on tight legs toward the greenhouse.
She didn’t come back out.
And no one followed.
Finally, the crew loaded up, headed out, and moved down the opposite side of the street from me.
Once their taillights were gone, I rushed out of the car, following the path I’d seen Ernest take until he’d gone out of view.
“Come on, bud, where’d you go?” I called, eyes searching the dark. “Ernest?”
There was a crackling noise.
Then there he was, his droopy eyes a little more alert than usual.
“Hey, bud. Those assholes scared you, huh?” I asked, reaching out to rub his velvet ears. “They scared your mom, too. We should go check on her.”
His presence gave me the excuse I needed to be able to check on her.
I just so happened to be driving down the road.
When I saw Ernest darting down the road.
I stopped to get him.
She wouldn’t suspect a thing.
And I could see if she was okay.
“Come on, bud,” I called, patting my leg, and trying to move away. “Come on. Let’s go see mom. You want a treat?” I asked.
His head whipped up at that, but he didn’t move to follow.
“That was probably the workout of a lifetime for you, huh?” I asked, walking over to him. “Alright. Let’s do it this way,” I said, squatting down and sliding my arms under him.
I was shocked at the weight of him.
“Jesus, man. The fuck do you weigh?” I asked as I got to my feet, readjusting his awkwardly shaped body, then starting back toward Vital Greens.
I didn’t see Rue anywhere.
Until I got to the door.
She was on the other side as I yanked it open.
Her face had been a mask of absolute horror.
Until she spotted the dog in my arms.
Then, fuck, she just fell apart.
She dropped down to the floor, her face buried in her hands, sobbing so hard that her body shook.
“Hey, darlin’, hey,” I murmured.
I sidestepped her to set down Ernest, who whined and nudged her side.
Then I pulled the door closed, got down on the floor, and pulled Rue into my arms.
Ernest stayed close, his body pressed to his owner’s as she cried into my chest.
Not just cried.
She fucking shattered.
I’d never seen anything like it.
Not only did the sobs rack her body, but she was trembling so violently that it almost felt like a seizure. Her cries were frantic, constant, loud. And the tears just soaked through my shirt in moments.
“Hey, you’re okay,” I assured her, squeezing her tighter like I could hold her together if I tried hard enough. “I’m right here,” I added when that didn’t work. That got a sad little whimper out of her. “I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her.
I shifted one arm up, still squeezing, but higher up on her shoulders so my fingers could massage the back of her neck.
That seemed to be what finally allowed her to start calming down. The sobs got quieter, less intense. Little by little the tears stopped and she was left sniffing pathetically.
She didn’t pull away, though.
She held on for several more long minutes, enough for the hard floor to make my knees start to ache.
“You found Ernest,” she sniffled.
“I did. I was driving down the street and saw him running. I had to chase him for a minute. Then the stubborn ass refused to walk back with me, so I had to carry him.”
She let out a watery laugh at that as she finally pulled away, keeping her head ducked as she turned and threw her arms around her dog.
“I’m sorry you had to run, baby,” she cooed into his wrinkly neck. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Darlin’,” I said when she pulled away from him but kept her chin to her chest. “What happened here?” I asked. Because I had to ask. Anyone would if they walked into this kind of destruction. As much as I hated lying, I couldn’t tell her I’d been watching. Not without permission from Huck, anyway.
“Someone destroyed everything,” Rue said, voice hollow.
“Were you robbed?” I asked. That seemed like an appropriate follow-up. “Did you check the register?”
“There’s no money in the register. I’d emptied it for the night already.”
That rang true.
“Were you here when this happened?”
“Not in here, no. Ernie was, though.” She sounded dangerously close to weeping again.
“He’s okay,” I assured her.
Even as I said it, the dog seemed to be trying to get back to his bed. Rue clutched him with all her might. “No, buddy. You can’t. You’ll cut your footsies.”
“How about I carry him into the kitchen?” I suggested. “I can put his bed in there and put the chair across the doorway.”
“Okay,” she agreed, seeming to start thinking more clearly. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll get his bed,” she said as I gathered up the chunky dog once again.
She seemed to need something to do, so I let her get and shake out the bed in case of shards, then put it in the kitchen for Ernest.
“Did you catch anything on your camera?” I asked, gesturing toward the front door.
“No. No, the cameras, uh, haven’t been working.”
They were off.
She turned them off.
She’d likely been forced to turn them off on delivery days.
“You didn’t see them?” I asked.
“I don’t know who did this.”
That rang mostly true. I figured because she’d been busy unloading the guns and didn’t know which of the guys had been inside wrecking her store.
“Do you want to call the police?” I asked. Again, that was what a normal, non-criminal, would ask.
“No!” It blurted out too quickly, too frantically. “No. It was probably just some stupid kids,” she said, head ducked like she didn’t want to lie to my face. “I just… I have to get the plants back in dirt before they all die.” Her voice hitched at the end of that.
“I can be an extra set of hands. I know I won’t be as good as you, but I can help.”
She sniffed hard again. When she spoke, her voice was tiny. “Okay.”
“Okay. Point me to the dirt.”
“In the seedling greenhouse. There’s a pile in the back. And there are plastic planters. I need planters.”
Her voice broke on that, likely thinking about Traeger and all his hard work.
“Hey, shit happens. Traeger won’t be mad.”
“No,” she agreed, nodding. “No, he won’t be mad. But this was so much work.” And, I imagined, money.
“Well, for the time being, you can just sell them in their plastic planters. Eventually, Traeger can get more stock going. It’s all going to be okay,” I told her, leaning down to press my forehead to the top of her head, willing her to believe it.
Because I meant it. Whatever happened, I was going to make sure Rue was okay.
“Yeah,” she agreed, but didn’t sound remotely convinced. “I’ll be right back. You sweep,” I said, figuring she needed an outlet.
“Right. Yeah. Okay.”
When I made my way out, she was reaching for the broom. By the time I came back with four bags of potting soil, she had most of the pottery and dirt in the trash and all the poor plants spread across the table.
She was just placing the broom against the wall when I noticed a shadow darkening her wrist. Like she’d been grabbed, maybe dragged.
I hadn’t seen that happen. But maybe it happened when Marco had moved inside the shop but before they got to the door.
My gut twisted, and I had to fight the urge to turn around, get back to my car, chase down Marco, and put a bullet between his fucking eyes.
Instead, I took a deep breath and gently placed down the bags.
“Alright. Show me what to do,” I demanded.
We fell into a rhythm then, moving from one plant to the next. After the first three, Rue stopped inspecting my plants, which felt like a win.
It took the better part of two hours, and by the time we were done, there was dirt caked under my nails and an ache between my shoulder blades from leaning over the table.
It wasn’t until we were fully done that Rue’s head lifted, and I got a full view of her face for the first time since she’d burst into tears.
She looked rough.
Her cheeks were raw from her tears. Her eyelids were puffy, the whites of her eyes red.
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you should come back to my place, we order some pizza or Chinese, and we unwind for a bit. I don’t think you should be alone. At least for a little bit.”
“You don’t have to—”
“If I want to?” I cut her off.
“Then… I could go for Chinese.”
“Okay. Let’s wash up then you can follow me to my place. You can check on my plant care while you’re there.”
With that, I helped her get a reluctant Ernest into her backseat, then ran down the road to my borrowed car, quickly throwing all evidence of my spying into the glovebox, then driving to the lot and leading her back to my neighborhood.
Just as I cut the engine, a text came through from Huck.
Like he somehow knew that shit had just gotten interesting.
I texted him back, telling him I’d have some updates for him in the morning. Then I turned off my phone and climbed out of the car.