Chapter 14 Ruger
Ruger
I park my truck like an absolute asshole outside Remi’s house—half on the sidewalk, half off. There’s maybe enough room for one person to squeeze between my passenger door and her bright white picket fence. Good enough in my books.
I’d dropped Brandt off before coming here.
I know I don’t need Remi’s blessing; Wrenley is an adult who can decide if she wants to go or not, but I also feel like the three of us are in this together, so she should at least know that I plan on going up there.
At the very least, I can grab anything she needs.
I don’t bother knocking. Around here, knocking is more of a suggestion than a requirement.
Remi? I call into the house.
A shriek erupts from down the hall. A second later, Remi bursts out of her office, clutching a letter opener.
When she sees me, she presses a hand to her chest. Jesus Christ, Ruger.
Good morning to you too? I say as I look between her and the sharp object in her hand.
I was working.
On what?
I wanted to try my hand at dark romance for fun, she says with a shrug.
The hell is a dark romance? I ask.
Women falling in love with 130urder men, she says casually, like this is a normal, everyday thing to happen. At least mine is, with a little bit of stalking.
I glance at the letter opener. Are you method writing or something?
I just wrote a pretty grim passage where the FMC’s stalker breaks into her house, she says. I was worried life was imitating art.
Remi, if somebody was stalking you, Bonnie would’ve already told the whole town, I say.
Not if she was murdered by the stalker, Remi says, and then her eyes widen. Oh! That’s good.
Before I can ask what she’s talking about, she disappears back into her office.
I follow and step into the small room, which is littered with scraps of paper and a corkboard overflowing with Post-it notes and piles of her books in various languages piled all around the room haphazardly. I wonder how she focuses in here.
Don’t you owe your publisher another book in your Alaska series? I say as I pick up one of the collector’s editions of her first book.
Yeah, yeah. She waves me off. This is just creative porn. I’m trying to keep my brain active while I figure out how I’m going to convince readers that a corporate woman from Miami would absolutely gut a moose.
That’s a very specific problem.
Writer life, she replies dryly. There. Done. God, this stalker is so unhinged. I’m kind of falling for him. She looks at me. Do you think I should write dark romance under a brand-new pen name?
Uh— I don’t know how to answer that. I love my sister and that she found her calling writing, but I’m not exactly a reader. And a book about a stalker doesn’t sound romantic to me, but to each their own.
She waves a hand before I can answer. What am I saying? Between writing and this Netflix deal, I don’t have time.
I smile at that. I’m proud of her for finally getting the TV deal she’s been on the edge of for a while. She says it’s normal for networks to show interest and then drop it, but I could see it was painful for her each time.
Anyway, she says, facing me, what brings you here?
I was thinking about heading up to Anchorage this weekend, I say. Let Wrenley see the sights, you know, outside the airport.
Remi furrows her brows. Anchorage? Yeah, I mean, I guess that makes sense. We do need some things for the wedding, and Wrenley mentioned only having a cotton dress, but maybe taking her to a wedding dress shop would inspire her to go thrifting for a dress she can alter.
Oh… yeah…
Actually, that’s a great idea. Remi beams. When are we leaving?
My stomach drops.
How do I backpedal out of this without saying, Actually, I want to go alone with Wrenley so I can figure out if this attraction is just proximity or the start of something? This whole thing has been the three of us, and there’s no way to break up the group without raising suspicion.
I point at her laptop. Don’t you need to write?
Laptops are portable, she says. I’m sure I can make deadline if you guys are cool doing a few things alone.
That somewhat solves my Remi problem. If she’s working, I can get Wrenley on her own without getting questions from my sister about why I want her on her own.
Should I book a hotel, then? I ask.
She tilts her head back and forth. Talk to Wrenley, and then we can go from there.
I nod. Okay, sounds good. I’ll let you get back to your stalker killing people.
Cool.
I start for the door, and then my sister speaks again. Hey, Ruger?
I turn. Yeah?
She looks at me with a smile. Wrenley. Everything is going good there?
Of course, I reply, maybe a little too quickly. Why would you ask?
You went camping last night, and Wrenley stayed here with me, she says. She made it sound like it was out of nowhere.
Remi’s tone makes me worry that I upset Wrenley, which I didn’t mean to do. All I wanted was a little space for perspective. I didn’t get it, but at least I tried.
You two had plans, and I wanted some time in the woods, I say. You know me. Even Alpine Harbor feels too big sometimes.
She nods. Okay. But you’d tell me if something changed, like if this got to be too much for you, right?
No.
The immediate thought takes me by surprise.
It was just last night that Brandt said communication matters, and here I am, ready to lie because I’d rather hurt myself than hurt Wrenley.
I feel so confused at this point, I don’t even know what would hurt more: marrying her or ending this and sending her back to Canada to refigure everything out.
Yeah, I say, a little breathy, and I have to hope Remi doesn’t pick up on my deceit.
Remi’s expression doesn’t change, and the pause makes my stomach churn.
We may not be identical twins, but growing up in a close-knit family has always made it easy for us to read each other, and I know that she’s asking because she feels something has changed.
She just doesn’t know what, and I’m only starting to figure it out.
Okay, she says, but it doesn’t sound okay. It sounds like she’s a little disappointed and a lot suspicious.
I’ll talk to Wrenley tonight and text you, I say.
Sounds good.
I head back to my truck, grateful to have secured some time with Wrenley, but my sister’s underlying suspicion is a warning bell I can’t ignore.
Whatever is happening inside me is starting to spill out, and Remi has put in a lot of work and money into Wrenley’s future. I don’t want Wrenley to feel like she has to give up a piece of herself. At the same time, I can’t help but keep moving closer to her.
I feel pulled in two directions, and maybe this is what I need. To see Wrenley thrive in a city setting and remind myself that it’s where she belongs. Because the longer I’m near her, and the more I see her fitting in here, the harder it is not to imagine her becoming a permanent fixture.
I pull away from Remi’s house, knowing I have to figure this out. This trip will either clear things up or do the exact opposite.
I finish plating dinner. Barbecued steak, broccoli I grabbed at the store because Wrenley seems to like a vegetable with her dinner, and rice cooked in homemade bison broth I made the way Beryl showed me.
Every part of the animal is sacred. We need to honour that by not wasting it. Her words are so true and meaningful to me.
A cabernet sauvignon is breathing on the counter.
I bought and prepared it as per Walter’s instructions when I panic texted him from the liquor store.
I’m more of a beer guy, but I want to have a nice dinner with Wrenley tonight.
While I like that Wrenley will happily drink beer straight from the bottle with me, wine feels more appropriate.
I hear the front door open and turn just in time to see her wild curls at the end of the hallway, bouncing as she kicks her shoes off.
You’re back, she says with a smile that sends a sharp ache to my chest.
I am.
I want to meet her in the hallway and pull her into my arms and tell her how damn much I missed her.
She’s not yours, I remind myself.
Did you have a nice camping trip? she asks, walking closer.
It was good, I say. I invited Brandt.
Wrenley’s face twitches a little, not anything big, but enough for me to catch.
She hasn’t met Brandt yet, and so the reaction feels a little odd.
And paired with his strange reaction when I mentioned that he’s not getting laid, at least to my knowledge, I’m feeling more curious about what Brandt’s hiding.
Sounds fun, she says.
I decide to let it go for now. Whatever is going on with Brandt can wait. I have more important things to worry about.
It was nice, I reply with a smile. I heard you spent the night at Remi’s.
I did. Did you see her today?
Swung by her place earlier, I say.
I gesture to the bottle of wine. Want some?
Sure.
I hand her a glass. My hands are shaky, and I’m not sure why. Her fingers brush mine as she takes it, and I wish they lingered longer.
It smells amazing in here, she says, looking around, then spotting the plates of food. Is that broccoli?
Don’t get used to it. I smirk. Sit. Eat.
She does, looking at the food with a giant grin.
She slices into the steak and closes her eyes as soon as she takes a bite. A quiet, satisfied moan escapes her mouth. I’m ruined.
Don’t let this go to your head, but nobody grills a steak like you, she says.
I chuckle. I’ll try to stay humble.
We eat. Talk a little about the shop, about my night, about hers.
About nothing and everything. There’s an ease between us I’ve never had with a woman.
Not even in my one real relationship. Maybe it’s because we both know how this ends.
There’s no illusion it will be something more.
In a way, it takes the pressure off. Still, hiding my feelings is hard.
I know if I’m not careful, I could crack the ease we’ve found wide open.
The damage would be irreparable, and I could ruin everything she and Remi have planned.
So, things are going well with Audrey and Beryl, huh? I ask after she finishes a story from her day.
She nods. They are. It’s nice having something that’s mine. I look forward to going there.
I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you busy, I say. I’m sure it’s hard not being able to work.
She shrugs. You get used to it after a year of unemployment.
But it’s nice to feel useful again, and I’m really enjoying it.
I’d love to be able to approach the school and look through all their costumes and fix them up.
She bites her lower lip and looks into her glass of wine.
Or even do a few classes on mending. There’s not a lot of shopping options here outside of online purchases, which can be risky for sizing and quality.
I’m sure people would love to know how to fix things like zippers and buttons. How to pick the right needles.
Hearing her talk about future plans and ideas for this town fills me in a way I know it shouldn’t. She has this spark in her eye, like this could really be something for her.
You okay? Wrenley asks. You look kind of lost in thought.
I chuckle softly. I am a little. I was thinking it would be nice to get away this weekend. Go up to Anchorage.
Wrenley tilts her head. Just the two of us?
Suddenly, I’m a little grateful Remi is coming. Now that I’m in the moment, I’m wondering how I would’ve sold going up to Anchorage with Wrenley alone to her.
Remi’s coming.
Wrenley’s face brightens. That sounds like so much fun.
Maybe Remi and I could pick you up from the shop on Friday, I suggest. We can head out from there.
Wrenley nods. Yeah, sure.
We’d get in a little late, but I could pack some food for dinner on the road.
Sounds good.
Great.
And then the conversation just ends, and we’re left staring at each other. Neither of us seems in a rush to leave, but it also feels weird just staying here. Looking at her beautiful face does nothing to help me figure out what is happening between us.
Do you want to finish that documentary? I hike my thumb over my shoulder to the living room.
Sure.
Her smile is small, and I wonder if she’s nervous too. Or maybe I’m imagining things.
I stand, and she follows. We settle on opposite ends of the couch.
The entire time, I find myself sneaking glances at her, wondering what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling.
By the time the credits roll, I can’t remember how the investigation led them to the killer, because all I could think about is how much I can’t wait for Friday.