Chapter Thirty
Xavier
I don’t remember the drive. One second, I’m reading her text.
Ruby: Someone was in my house.
The next, I’m turning onto her street, tires hitting gravel too fast, engine sputtering when I jump out of the truck. Her back door is unlocked. My heart slams hard enough to make the world narrow.
“Ruby?”
“I’m here.” Her voice is high-pitched and breathy.
I step inside and see her near the kitchen table, phone clutched in both hands like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. She’s shaking. Not the subtle kind she hides. Full, uncontrollable tremors.
The sight hits something deep and immediate in my chest. Fear. It’s not an emotion I experience often, but I know what it is. I close the distance in two strides. “Hey.”
She looks up at me like she’s been holding herself together with duct tape, and I’m the first solid thing she’s seen. “They were inside.”
I don’t think. I pull her into me. Her arms come up, gripping the back of my shirt like she’s afraid I might disappear. Her face presses into my chest, breath hitching against the flannel.
“I’ve got you.” She’s cold, shaking hard enough that I feel it through my ribs.
“This is real.” Her voice breaks. “This isn’t small-town weird.”
“No.” I rub her back in a slow circle. “It’s not.”
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Don’t say that. I expect you to call me over something like this.” I keep one arm around her and scan the room, windows closed, front door locked, nothing obviously disturbed. “Were the doors locked?”
“Yes, they were locked.” She nods against my chest, then steps back reluctantly, like letting go costs her something. “I don’t know how they got in, but the box was here in the kitchen.” She points to the counter. “There.”
I don’t comment as I brace my hand against her back, taking a step forward. The box sits on the counter, exactly where she pointed. White. Centered. Her name written across the top in the same block lettering as the other notes.
Someone was in her house. The fucking asshole. “You touched it?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Good.”
My phone is already in my hand.
Me: Need you at Ruby’s. Break-in.
Jake: On my way.
I set the phone down and move through the kitchen, eyes scanning for anything out of place. The window over the sink is locked. The back door shows no damage. But the trim around the frame….
I crouch. The weather stripping is pulled loose at the end. A thin gap where the latch meets the frame. “Here.”
Ruby steps closer, arms wrapped around herself.
“They slipped something in,” I explain, pointing. “Pried the latch without breaking it.”
Her face goes pale. “So they could do it again.”
“No. Not after tonight.” That’s not going to happen. Her eyes snap to mine. I don’t look away.
A car pulls up outside, gravel crunching under the tires. Ruby exhales, shoulders sagging with relief. “Jake.”
A minute later, the door opens and Jake steps inside, posture alert, eyes sweeping the room in one practiced motion. He’s in jeans and a jacket, badge clipped at his belt.
“You okay?” His eyes rake over Ruby.
She nods. “I am now.”
He glances at me, then back to her. “Show me.”
“I think they got in here.” I point at the door.
He inspects the latch, eyes narrowed, stepping from one side to the other to review the scene from different angles. “Clean entry. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.” He straightens, face harder now. “And they’ll know we found it.”
Ruby clutches my arm, fingers gripping the flannel. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Jake notices the movement. His voice softens. “We’ll file a report. I’ll have patrol swing by tonight and tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
He strides to the counter, studying the box. “You want to open it?”
Ruby looks at me.
I nod once. “I’m right here.”
She takes a breath and lifts the lid. Inside is a single item. A small stuffed pig. Pink. Soft. A note attached. Similar lettering as the rest. Her voice shakes as she reads it out loud. “Thought Squirt looked lonely.” Ruby makes a small, strangled sound. “My pigs.”
Her gaze flicks toward the back of the house. Toward the porch. Toward where they are. Real. Alive. Her breathing stutters. “He knows.”
The room goes very quiet. This isn’t random. This isn’t Brent being persistent. Or Greg being overfamiliar. This is someone watching. Someone who didn’t rush. Someone who figured out what was important to her. Someone who broke into her home and left her a gift. Someone who wanted her to know it.
Ruby’s hand finds mine. I lace my fingers through hers before I can think about it. Her palm is cold against mine, fingers shaking. “You’re not staying here alone tonight. Not with this. Not after someone got in.”
She doesn’t argue.
Jake nods. “Good call.”
The wind rattles the siding outside as Ruby’s grip on my hand tightens. Every sound feels too loud now.
“I thought it was nothing.”
I squeeze back. “It’s something now.”
And whatever this is…. It…it crossed a line it can’t uncross. Not tonight. Not after this. Not after someone was inside her house. Squirt wedges himself between us, settling against my boot.
“Pretty sure that isn’t where you’re supposed to sit.”
She grunts.
“Fair,” I add. “I guess you win.”
Ruby lets out a soft breath that sounds like a laugh as she withdraws her hand, dropping it to her side.
One of the tight lines in her shoulders eases.
Just a fraction. Not safe. Not yet. But not alone.
The moment settles there, quiet and fragile, and she looks a little less braced for what comes next.