Chapter One Hundred Two
Ruby
Pain wakes me first—a dull pounding deep behind my left temple. For a few seconds, I don’t move. Don’t open my eyes. Don’t breathe too deeply. Cold grass presses against my cheek.
My fingers twitch against dirt and damp leaves. Then memory crashes back all at once. The pigs. The yard. The sound behind me. The hit.
My eyes fly open. The porch light glows weakly across the backyard, blurring at the edges of my vision. I’m on the ground beside the pig pen. Squirt circles nearby in frantic tight loops, letting out distressed squeals and nervous grunts that scrape straight through my skull.
“Squirt,” I whisper hoarsely. Even my own voice hurts.
I try pushing myself upright. Pain detonates instantly behind my eye. “Ah–”
The sound slips out before I can stop it. My hand flies to the side of my head. My fingers come away wet. Dark. Blood. Panic punches straight through the haze.
Okay. Okay. Think.
I force myself upright, bracing against the fence post while the yard tilts sideways. My stomach rolls hard. Something white catches my attention near the gate.
Paper. Taped to the fence post.
My heart lurches to my throat. No. No. No. No.
I crawl closer anyway. The black marker bleeds against the paper from the damp night air.
You were warned.
Another line sits beneath it.
Stay away from him.
The words swim briefly out of focus. My stomach lurches violently. I barely turn my head before throwing up into the grass beside the fence.
Pain explodes through my skull again hard enough to make tears spring instantly to my eyes. Squirt squeals sharply and presses his snout against my shoulder.
Someone was here. Someone hit me on the head. They stood over me while I was unconscious. Fear cuts clean through the numb exhaustion.
My hands shake as I dig my phone out of my hoodie pocket. The screen blurs twice before I can focus on it properly.
My thumb hovers over Xavier’s name. Instinct. Habit. The person I’ve reached for through all of this.
Pain shoots through my chest as swiftly as it did my head. Because even now, hurt and dizzy and bleeding into the grass, part of me still wants him. But all I hear is his words.
No expectations. Nothing serious. Just friends.
And I can’t bear the idea of calling him and hearing obligation instead of want. I can’t survive that again.
My thumb drops lower on the screen. Jake. The phone rings once. Twice.
“Ruby?” His voice sharpens.
The sound of it breaks something inside me. “I–” My voice cracks badly. “I think someone hit me.”
Dead silence. Then Jake’s tone changes. “Where are you?”
“My yard.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. The words tumble together. “I was feeding the pigs, and something hit me, and there’s another note, and I woke up on the ground and–”
“Ruby.” His voice cuts straight through the panic. “Stay on the phone with me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m on my way.”
My stomach twists again. I press my hand harder against the grass to steady myself while Squirt continues pacing anxiously beside me. “Jake…”
“Yeah?”
My voice comes out small. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” His answer is immediate. Steady. “You’re not alone, alright? I’ll be there in a minute.”
The next few minutes blur together strangely. The porch light. The cold grass. Squirt’s nervous snuffling. Everything feels disconnected. Far away.
Then headlights swing hard into the driveway. Jake’s truck screeches to a stop. He’s out before the engine fully dies. “Ruby!”
“Here,” I manage weakly.
The flashlight beam finds me instantly. Jake’s expression hardens the second he sees the blood matted along my hairline. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay.”
He drops into a crouch beside me. Squirt crowds against his leg. “Easy, boy,” he mutters before turning the flashlight toward my head. “Hold still.”
The movement makes nausea surge again. I turn and throw up into the grass a second time. Jake steadies my shoulder. “Alright. Easy.”
“I shouldn’t have come out at night, but I–”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” His gaze sweeps the yard. Tree line. Fence. Darkness beyond the porch light. Every direction feels exposed. “Did you see anyone?”
I shake my head once and instantly regret it.
“Don’t do that again,” he mutters. He already has his phone out.
“Right.” I don’t know whether he means come outside at night again or turn my head, but I’m agreeing to both. Coming outside in the dark was a bad idea. And turning my head was worse.
“I’m calling this in.” Within seconds, his voice changes into clipped professional calm. “I need an ambulance at Ruby’s place. Assault leading to a head injury.”
Sirens slice through the quiet night a few minutes later. Red and blue lights flash across the yard and the ambulance swings in behind Jake’s truck.
The passenger doors burst open, and Emily jumps out. Her eyes lock on me instantly. “Oh, my God.” She’s beside me, medical bag already in hand. “Ruby, look at me.”
I try to smile. “Hey.”
“Don’t move your head.” Her hands are gentle but efficient as she checks the swelling near my temple. “You’ve got a pretty significant bump.”
“Feels like it, and no, I’m not moving my head.”
“Any dizziness?”
“Yes.”
“Nausea?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Very.”
Jake mutters a curse behind us as Emily exhales. “Alright.” Her expression shifts from friend to EMT. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”
My chest tightens instantly. “Do we have to?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No softness. Just certainty.
And that scares me but not as much as realizing my stalker isn’t watching me anymore. They’re intent on hurting me.