Chapter Ninety-Two
Ruby
The first thing I notice when I wake up is that the ceiling isn’t mine. My brain struggles to catch up. Different fan, different light fixture. Different room.
Then the memory of glass shattering in the middle of the night crashes back into place. I sit up. The bedroom is silent except for Squirt sprawled heavily on the floor beside the bed, little snuffling sounds puffing out of him every few seconds.
Xavier’s room. A flannel shirt tossed over a chair. His boots near the wall. A flashlight sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.
The reality settles in after that. I slept here with him. And judging by the fact that nobody questioned it last night, everyone else knows it too.
My stomach tightens, not because it feels wrong. Just… strange. Not bad strange. Just different. Too much happened last night for my brain to sort through what that means. The broken glass keeps trying to push back into my thoughts instead.
“Okay,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. “We’re not doing that yet.”
I tug on my hoodie and step into the hallway. The smell of coffee drifts from the kitchen.
Sam leans against the counter with a mug in one hand and his phone in the other. He glances up when I walk in. “Morning.” His voice is quieter than usual, careful, as if he’s hoping I’m not going to break.
“Morning.”
“You sleep any?”
“A little.”
He tips his head toward the coffee pot. “Help yourself.”
I pour a mug and wrap both hands around it before taking a sip. The warmth helps more than I expect.
Jake sits at the kitchen table scrolling through something on his phone. He looks up when I sit down. “Checked the property. Nothing else but what you already saw. No fingerprints. We also pulled the traffic cam near the highway entrance. Nothing useful yet.”
Straight to the point. No dramatic looks. No pity. Oddly enough, I appreciate that.
“So whoever did it just disappeared?” I ask.
“For now.” His tone stays calm. Matter-of-fact. Not trying to scare me. Not pretending everything’s fine either. “We’ll keep digging. I’m going to stop by this morning and take a look around in daylight.”
“Thanks.” A cabinet closes somewhere farther down the hall. My shoulders tense before I can stop them.
Footsteps sound a second later. Xavier appears in the doorway, hair messy from sleep or running his hand through it, T-shirt wrinkled as he threw it on without paying attention.
His eyes find me. Checking to see if I’m okay. “You’re up.”
That tight feeling in my chest eases a fraction before I can stop it. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad you were able to sleep in a strange place.” He rakes his hand through his hair, eyes trained on the cabinet behind me.
It’s as if he doesn’t know where to look. Or what to do. Or what to say to convince everyone that he only had me stay in his room because someone is stalking me. Wonderful. I don’t know why I keep thinking this is going to turn into something it isn’t.
“Thank you.” The coffee sours in my stomach. “I was.”
“Good.” He nods as if it’s a newsflash that I was able to sleep when I slept in his arms.
After pouring himself a mug of coffee, he sits beside me, knee brushing mine beneath the table as if to reassure me that everything’s okay between us. But it’s a quick brush, and then he scoots his chair to the left, putting more space between us.
With the added distance, the tension returns. Nothing is okay at this point. I brace my shoulders. “Jake says there's nothing yet.”
Xavier nods once. “I know.”
My phone buzzes against the table before I can think too hard about that. Mr. Cole’s name flashes across the screen. I answer. “Good morning.”
“Ruby,” he says. “You alright?”
“I'm okay.”
“I heard about the windows.” Of course he did…. Small town. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he continues. “None of this is your fault.” Something about the gruff honesty in his voice makes my throat constrict.
“I know.” And that much, I do know. I’ve done nothing to deserve someone harassing me. Scaring me and threatening me and driving me out of my own home.
“Xavier said you two might be late this morning.”
“I’ll stop by the house first. Clean up the glass. If Xavier wants to go on to work, I can ride with Jake when he goes to do his walkthrough.”
Not that he’ll find anything. Whoever this person is, they’re always one step ahead.
Xavier is watching me. Reading my expression when he can’t make out everything his father says.
“That’s fine,” Mr. Cole says. “Take your time.”
I relax into the chair. “Thank you.”
The call ends. The kitchen settles into silence.
“I’ll go with you to the house.” Xavier pushes his chair back.
“You don’t have to.” The last thing I want is to be an obligation. Things are awkward enough as it is.
“It’s not up for debate. I’ll drive you to the house, and if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll take you to work or bring you back here.”
“Fine.” There’s no point in arguing with him when he’s made his mind up.
Jake stands first, grabbing his keys off the table. “I’m going to take a quick look around the house. I'll call if anything comes up.”
“Thanks.”
He gives us both a nod before heading out.
Sam drains the last of his coffee. “I’m gonna shower before Ben starts yelling about hot water again.”
“Valid concern,” Xavier says.
Sam disappears down the hallway.
The house stills after that—just the low hum of the refrigerator. Ben moving around somewhere deeper in the house. And Xavier sitting half a foot away from me. Not beside me. A tiny difference. One I probably shouldn’t notice. Except I do.
His eyes hold mine before drifting toward the window. “We’ll get it figured out.”
We’ll. The kind of answer anyone would give. But is there a we in this case?
He pushes his chair back. “We should get going. Ben is letting me drive his truck. Got mine to the shop before daybreak.”
There’s that word again. I nod and stand.
For one stupid second, I wait. For his hand at my back. For our shoulders to brush. For one of those absent-minded touches that had become part of every day. Nothing.
He grabs his keys instead. Crosses to the front door. Holds it open for me. I walk past him into the cold morning. He isn't being cruel. He’s putting distance between us because we’re not alone. The problem is....
I cannot keep pretending that's enough.