Page 208 of Show Me

I let him out, then feed the others because standing around imagining where Ruby might be is going to make me lose my mind.

My attention is caught by the disturbed patch of ground near the fence. Blood in the grass. Ruby unconscious. Not calling me.

I grip the feed bucket tighter. Gravel crunches as someone pulls into the driveway. Bella. Relief hits hard—until she gets out alone.

“Where is she?”

She stops several feet in front of me, head tilted, and brow furrowed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Bella.”

Her expression softens. “She’s safe.”

Some of the pressure in my chest releases. “Where?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“She asked me not to.”

Son of a bitch. Frustration surges through me. “Someone attacked her last night.”

“I know. And she’s scared and overwhelmed and needs space.”

“She shouldn’t be alone.”

“She’s not.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t have to go there. Just tell me where she is.”

Bella shakes her head. “She’s somewhere safe with somebody who loves her.”

That helps. Not enough, but enough that I can breathe.

Bella glances toward the pigs. “You’re here feeding them?”

“Somebody had to.”

“Why you?”

My jaw tightens. “Because I know where everything is. I know what they like. They trust me.”

She studies me. “You’re angry.”

“No shit.”

“That’s not all you are.”

My gaze returns to the place Ruby fell. No. It isn’t.

Bella goes quiet for a moment. “Are you ever going to admit Ruby is more than a friend?”

The question hits like a smack to the face. And I deserve it.

I’m standing in her yard when I should be at work, feeding her pigs because she isn’t here to do it, barely able to breathe until somebody assures me she’s safe. The answer feels painfully obvious.

“She’s always been more than that.”