Chapter 8
NOAH
I lean my head back, resting it against the cool brick exterior of the Grab n’ Go that’s shaded by the woods. I couldn’t even come up with a single word to say to her.
But unlike that night at Matthew’s, I saw something there in her eyes.
She knows me. And now, she could call and turn me in.
That’d be bad. That’d be really fucking bad. Shit. I push off the wall and angle my body back toward the parking lot. I wait a few moments, expecting cops to come tearing in.
But they don’t.
Instead, little Rue comes bounding out, her arms full of groceries. Her eyes scan the lot in front of her in a paranoid way I can relate to. Part of me wants to run to her and help her carry all that shit. The other part of me is enjoying the struggle.
Even if it’s petty as fuck.
I stare at her jeans, and the way they hug the curve of her ass. She swings her hips in this strange, enticing way, and I’d recognize her gait anywhere. It’s kind of…goofy the way her hips move. But now that she’s all grown up?
It gets me so hard.
I shift uncomfortably, adjusting myself in my waistband. It’s real fucking messed up to get turned on by the woman who ruined my life. That’s what I need to keep reminding myself. There’s no room for her to exist in the positive space in my mind.
Still, she’s impossible to look away from.
Rue is much harder to forget than me.
Maybe that’s why guys like me end up in prison.
I frown at the thought and take a deep breath, rolling my shoulders.
They’re so tight they ache, and I’m not sure if it’s the shitty sleeping situation in the barn loft, or just the fact that I’m here in Moccasin Cove when I really should be in Mexico.
And the Marshals are going to show up here eventually.
People have seen me now.
Rue coughs, breaking my thoughts. While carefully balancing everything in her arms, she manages to get her key fob out and hit the button for the back hatch—but not before the bearded fucking wonder comes darting over to help her.
I roll my eyes, and watch it play out. He’s trying so hard it makes my stomach sick.
And Rue just grins like a little angel.
I scoff. Better watch out, buddy. She can get a little stabby.
But Macho Man keeps making obnoxious gentleman moves, carefully helping her unload her arms. He places all the things in the back of her car like a good boy, laughing and conversing with her like they’re just old pals.
Fucking suck up.
But even then, Rue giggles in a way that has me wishing she was doing it to me as she rearranges something before leaning back. She smashes the Close button, and then steps back, dusting her hands off on her jeans.
After a closer look, I notice a bandage on the palm of her right hand.
Hmm. What’d you do, Little Rue? Stab someone else?
I mull it over for a moment. Somehow, I can’t see Rue as the serial killer type—not after having spent a decade around them in prison. Her energy is all wrong. She carries herself in a way that makes me want to give her a hug and tell her everything is going to be okay.
And that’s why she’s so dangerous.
I can’t pull my eyes away from her as the two of them laugh, though her eyes don’t light up the way they used to when we were together. But even if it’s fake, I’m still fucking jealous of the dickbag for getting to be so close to her.
At least she doesn’t look like him like he’s a ghost she’s long forgotten.
Again, it must be nice to actually be memorable.
I do my best to steady the rage simmering in my chest as the two part ways, thankfully no phone numbers exchanged. Then again, maybe they know each other.
I don’t find out. I didn’t hang around to catch the conversation between them earlier.
Macho Man walks with a little less swag as Rue pulls out of the parking lot, and as he makes his way to his big, brand new lifted fucking truck, I smirk.
Rejection stings, doesn’t it, bro?
I wait for him to get in his truck, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls out his phone—something I haven’t seen in some time—and then answers what I assume is a phone call.
And damn, does he talk loud.
“Yeah, I mean, I’ll be back in a couple of weeks,” he grunts, visibly annoyed by whoever is on the other line until a few beats later.
“I’m in this little shithole town and you’d never believe it.
I saw this hot girl. She seemed easy.” He pauses, laughing.
“Oh dude, I would’ve fuckin’ railed that fat ass. ”
My mind jumpstarts. I’ll put this razor in the sorry motherfucker’s neck.
Rage simmers in my chest cavity, and I clench my fists at my side, trying to fucking breathe. I need to just walk away.
But what the hell do I have to lose?
That thought is enough to launch me forward, and before reality connects with my brain to put on the brakes, my fist is crashing into the side of Macho Man’s temple. He drops to the ground with a sickening thud, and I stand over his big, limp, gym-honed body.
Well fuck.
It’s not nearly as satisfying as I’d hoped it’d be.
Still, I pluck his truck keys from his hand and shove them into my pocket. I have no desire to drive his piece of shit truck anywhere at all.
But I do like the idea of him not being able to.
I glance around the dead parking lot and then go for his wallet, leaving the cash and instead fishing out his ID. I shove it in my pocket, and step away, ignoring the way I’d love to crush his skull with the sole of my boot.
Too messy. That’s too messy. My brain kicks back into gear, like it’s finally fucking working again, and I slip back toward the far side of the building, heading for the trees.
I have to keep my eyes on Rue.