Page 55 of Show Me

“Ruby?”

“Yeah.”

Ben watches me again, that look back in his eyes. The one that says he’s putting pieces together I’m not acknowledging, and he’s not letting it go.

“Good,” he says. “She’ll be safer there.”

That’s the point. That’s the only point. I nod once. “Yeah.”

“Going back out?”

“No.” I grab my phone and keys, turning toward the staircase. “Not tonight.”

Because she’s fine. Because she’s safe. Because I’m not doing anything different than I would for anyone else. That’s what I tell myself as I close my door and drop my stuff on the dresser. But the words don’t land the way they should.

My phone buzzes again. I don’t go back for it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ruby

The morning passes in a blur of check-ins and forced smiles. Brent isn't here. Yet. That should feel like a relief. It doesn’t.

The phone rings. I answer automatically. “Iron House Fitness. This is Ruby."

Silence. Not the static kind. The kind where I can hear someone breathing. “Hello?”

Nothing.

A treadmill hums somewhere behind me. Someone drops a set of dumbbells. The sounds suddenly feel too loud against the quiet on the other end of the line.

“Can I help you?” Another second.

Then…. The line clicks dead.

I stare at the receiver for a moment before setting it back in its cradle. Wrong number. Probably. Still... A chill crawls up the back of my neck.

Twenty minutes later, the bell jingles as Greg steps behind the desk. Too close. I shift sideways, but he steps closer to the computer, effectively boxing me in between the counter and his arm braced beside the keyboard.

"You didn't tell me you were throwing those out."

He glances toward the trash.

The words land heavy. Does this mean Greg bought them for me? I shiver at the thought. It seems more likely than not that he did; if someone else sent me flowers at work, he’d have a full-on come-apart. He’d want to know why they were sent, who sent them, and why I accepted them.

I should ask, but I don’t. “I didn’t ask for them.”

His hand comes down on the counter beside mine, not touching, but close enough that I feel the heat of him. “You don’t have to push people away who are trying to be kind.”

“I’m not.” My voice is steadier than I feel. “I’m doing my job.”

His gaze drifts to my mouth, back to my eyes. My spine goes rigid. “You could have more here, Ruby. Stability. Someone looking out for you.”

My stomach churns. Now. I’m doing this. “I’m leaving.”

His eyes narrow like he’s staring down a snake. “What did you say? I must’ve heard you wrong.”

“After today. I’m done.”