Chapter 31
Ruth
Ihate this. Hate everything about it.
I know it’s a ridiculous way to feel—my job is great, my apartment is gorgeous, and the daycare I found for Birdie is somewhere I feel safe leaving her—but I can’t help it. I’m miserable.
And it’s my own stupid fault.
Because I went and fell in love with Tucker Bradshaw.
I knew better. I knew what he did and didn’t want when I met him. That’s the whole reason our paths crossed in the first place. I’ve got no one to blame but myself.
And I do blame myself. That chick is a freaking idiot.
“Snack?” Birdie is doing her best to avoid going to sleep, and I don’t blame her. I haven’t found going to sleep to be so much fun myself. Not when Tucker isn’t cuddled up next to me the way he was during our last two weeks together.
“You already had a snack.” I keep my tone gentle but firm as I pull the blankets up around her, tucking my little girl into the bed I nearly burst into tears over every day.
I should probably disassemble the thing and pack it up. Save myself the misery.
But it wouldn't really do me any good. There are reminders of him everywhere I look. The bathtub. Every sparrow that flies past my window. The swimming pool at the hotel where I work. The playground just a few steps away from our back door.
I’m ruined. Ruined by a man who made his stance very clear from the get-go, so I can’t even be mad at him.
Even though I am a little mad at him for making me love him.
That’s why, after getting Birdie all situated with her glowing musical lamp set to lull her to sleep, I go downstairs and head straight for the bottle of wine chilling in my fridge. It’s been a long week, and I need something to help me relax. Something to help me sleep.
Something to help me forget shaggy blond hair and dimpled grins.
I dig out the opener and pop the cork free.
Holding the bottle by the neck, I consider it for a second before deciding that drinking from a glass will only add unnecessary dishes.
After slinging a packet of extra butter popcorn into the microwave and setting it to pop, I down a few gulps of Chardonnay on my way into the living room.
I have the remote in my hand, ready to turn on the show I’ve been trying to watch for two weeks, when my cell phone starts to ring.
My heart rate picks up, speeding along with the hope that I’ll see a familiar name populated on the screen. Tucker checks in on me every day, and it might be the only thing that’s keeping me going. Keeping me from sinking completely into despair.
But the number calling me now is an unfamiliar one. I’d love to let it go to voicemail, but the minute I do it will be one of my staff calling from their personal cell phone to tell me there’s an emergency at work.
Setting the bottle of wine on the coffee table, I swipe my phone off the surface, answering as I wander toward my nearly finished popcorn. “Hello?”
“Hello, Ruth.”
My whole body locks up, skin going cold as bile climbs up my throat. “How did you get this number?”
William chuckles, the sound dark and sinister and nothing like the easy-going laughter that once lured me into his web. “Have you forgotten who I am?”
I will never forget who he is. In some ways I wish I could.
Want more than anything to erase him from my past. But that would also erase Birdie, and I would never give her up.
No matter how much easier it would make my life.
She’s mine. She is everything to me. And I will always make sure no one can hurt her.
Including—and especially—the man on the other end of the line.
“What do you want, Bill?” I smirk a little at the use of the nickname, knowing how much he hates it. It makes him sound more simple. More common. More basic.
And Senator William Sheppard doesn’t want to be basic. Not ever again. I wish he was as ashamed of his affairs as he is of the way he grew up. Then maybe I wouldn’t be standing here trying not to shit myself.
“I just called to find out how you’re liking Maryland.” I can hear the anger in his voice. “And why the fuck you’re trying to cause problems for me.”
Fear crawls up my spine, bringing a chill along with it. “Leave me alone. I haven’t told anyone anything. I haven’t asked you for a dime, and I’m not going to.”
“You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you’d done what I told you to do in the first place.” His words are sharp and threatening. “But you just had to go and be a pain in the ass, didn’t you? This is all your own fault, Ruth. You brought it on yourself.”
I creep toward my front door, double checking the lock and the safety bar Tucker bought for it. “Just forget I exist, Bill. You’ve got a wife and a family to think about, remember?”
I can’t believe I ever fell for his bullshit. Can’t believe I was so na?ve and trusting. His story was so fucking cookie-cutter. The same regurgitated sob story every man looking to have an affair spews.
He and his wife were separated. They hadn’t shared a bed in years. He tried to tell her how he felt, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be free. They were basically divorced.
And I ate it up like I was starving.
On some level I was. Starved for attention. Affection. Someone who would be in my corner. Someone I could count on. Something to distract me from how much I missed my mom.
But William was never any of those things. He was just using me. Not for a single second did he want us to be more. A reality that became abundantly clear when I told him I was pregnant.
“I wish I could do that, Ruth.” Bill sighs, the sound manufactured and dramatic. “But a little birdy told me you’re trying to fuck me over. All it takes is a DNA test and I’m another politician with an illegitimate child. How do you think my base will like that?”
“They’ll like it a lot more than they’d like knowing you paid me to have an abortion.” I know the words are a mistake the second they’re out of my mouth, but it’s too late to take them back.
“You fucking bitch.” He laughs bitterly.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you to move along and keep my name out of your mouth.
” He pulls in a deep breath, blowing it out against the microphone.
“So I guess the next best option for me is to take you to court.
Claim you're unfit and get custody of my beloved baby girl.”
The room starts to spin as my vision narrows and spots dance in front of my eyes. “I will die before I let you take my daughter.”
William clicks his tongue. “I suppose that could be arranged too.” His voice lowers. “Be careful what you wish for, Ruth. It just might come true.”
The line goes dead.
My hands are shaking as I fumble my cell away from my ear, accidentally dropping it as I sink to the floor, my legs unable to continue supporting my weight.
What am I going to do? I thought moving across the country would show William I’m not a threat to him. Prove I’m genuinely not interested in anyone ever knowing we were once entangled. I didn’t tell anyone. Not my friends. Not my coworkers. No one but Tucker.
I didn’t put his name on the birth certificate, choosing to claim I was artificially inseminated so no one would ask questions. Because I have exactly as much interest in him being a part of Birdie’s life as he has in his constituents finding out what a hypocrite he is.
So why won’t he leave me alone? Why won’t he put this behind him the way I’m trying to put it behind me?
I swipe at my face with the back of one hand, doing my best to wipe away the tears tracking down my cheeks as I wobble myself upright.
I manage to check all the windows and doors, ensuring no one can easily get in.
But at the end of the day, if William wants to make me disappear, I don’t doubt he has that ability.
And that terrifies me. I know how devastating it was to lose my mother as an adult.
I can’t imagine what it would be like for Birdie if something happened to me now.
If I was taken from her before she got a chance to remember me.
Before she could bank years of unconditional love to carry with her through life.
As I pass the kitchen, the acrid smell of burnt popcorn assaults my nose, but I ignore it because that’s the least of my problems right now. Reaching the living room, I crouch down to retrieve my phone from where I dropped it earlier, checking the screen to make sure it didn’t crack.
It didn’t, but I feel no relief at that because I now have three missed calls from the same number William used.
This time, I can’t fight my stomach’s revolt.
I race to the half bath on the main floor, emptying the meager amount of wine in my stomach as I try to think straight.
But panic and fear are making that impossible, and they send me sinking to the floor, back against the wall literally and metaphorically as I try to think of what I can do to keep Birdie safe.
Honestly, there’s only one answer.
There’s only one person in this world I trust. Only one person in this world I can count on. There’s nothing he can do for me now, but maybe hearing his voice will help me get it together.
I wipe the snot from my face and the tears from my eyes, then call the man I miss so much it hurts.
It doesn’t even seem like the line rings before it connects.
Tucker’s deep, rich voice is a balm and a vice as it reaches my ears.
It soothes me while squeezing the fear I’m fighting until I’m ready to explode.
Which is why, instead of coherently explaining to him what’s going on, I sob, embarrassed and exhausted and afraid.
“What’s wrong?” Tucker’s voice has hardened. It’s louder. Almost dangerous.
“William.” I manage to get his name out. “He called. Knows where I am.” I swallow down the urge to throw up again. “He threatened me.”
Tucker curses, his breathing labored. “Are you safe right now?”
I crawl to the door of the bathroom, peering around my silent townhome. “I think so.”
“Is Birdie safe?” His words are choppy, but there’s no missing the fear they carry.
“She’s upstairs asleep.” Even as I say it, dread settles in my belly, moving me on my hands and knees to where the monitor sits so I can peer at her tiny sleeping form. “She’s safe.”
Tucker lets out a long breath. “Are all your doors locked?”
I’m already starting to feel better, having him guide me through the steps I need to take, even though I’ve already taken them. “Yes. I made sure.”
“Good girl.” Tucker is huffing and puffing now. “I want you to go grab your baseball bat and sit somewhere you can see both doors. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hangs up, leaving me staring across my apartment in confusion.
I obviously didn’t hear him right. My brain must be scrambled from the wine, because I know exactly how long it takes to get here from Wyoming.
I may or may not have priced plane tickets.
I still do what he told me, moving quickly but quietly into my bedroom and pulling the heavy metal bat from my closet.
After making sure the sock covering it is still in place, I check on Birdie before creeping back down the stairs.
I’ve just reached the bottom when headlights cut across the front blinds, sending my stomach dropping to my feet.
I grip the bat tight, planning out my attack if somebody tries to come through my door. Head first. Then gut.
Balls for good measure.
I inch toward the door, heart racing as I hear heavy steps on the cement stairs on the other side.
Oh God. This is real. William wasn’t just trying to scare me. He meant what he said. He’s going to try to kill me. Going to take my daughter. Going to—
“Ruth.” The voice on the other side of my door is so familiar I stop breathing. “Let me in, sweetheart.”
The bat hits the floor, clanging against the laminate as I fumble with the deadbolt. I stub my toe kicking away the safety brace, but barely feel it as I fling the door open, eyes landing on Tucker Bradshaw for the first time in almost three weeks.
“It’s okay.” He grabs me, pinning me against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head as his scent surrounds me. “Everything is going to be okay.”
There’ve only been a handful of times in my life where I felt like that was actually true.
I was wrong about all of them.
I thought my mother would survive her diagnosis. She didn’t.
I believed Birdie coming into my life would help me feel like I wasn’t so alone, and that everything would work out. It didn’t.
I hoped moving across the country would show William I really don’t want him in my life any more than he wants me in his. Obviously that’s not the way that worked out.
Considering past experience, there’s no way I should believe this particular scenario will be any different.
But with Tucker here, his arms holding me tight against the broad warmth of his chest, I can’t help but think it might finally all work out. That everything could possibly be okay.
And maybe the reason I’m thinking that is because my definition of everything has changed dramatically. What matters most to me has shifted. The life I want and the people I need in it evolved without me meaning for it to happen.
I thought time and distance would undo it, but every day the knot tying me together gets tighter and tighter. Until it took everything in me to find air.
“Just breathe.” Tucker’s fingertips massage along my scalp as his body curls closer to mine, enveloping me with his scent. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you or Birdie. I promise.” The emotion in his voice encases each word, making them sound as strangled as I’ve felt without him.
And for the first time since he left, that knot eases. The pressure dissipates, making it possible for me to say what needs to be said.
What I wish I’d said weeks ago, but was too afraid of where it would lead.
Now I know, and I don’t like it here.
I hiccup a little, but manage to swallow it down as I lift my eyes to his, fingers clutched in his shirt like I’m afraid he’s going to run away. “I want to come home.”
Tucker’s fingers tangle in my hair as his forehead drops to rest against mine. “Thank God. Because I was worried about how mad you were gonna be when you found out I came here to pack this whole place up so I could bring you and Birdie back where you belong.”