Page 95 of Riot of Autumn

“Yes, Cube?”

“I know I said it before, but I love you. I was scared shitless that you were going to get hurt,” she says the sentence with one breath and then sighs loudly, like it was hard to get out.

“Was that painful? That sounded painful.”

Ruby shifts so she can look up at me. Her hair is a tangled mess, and she’s too pale, but her eyes are full of that mischievous glint that I love.

“Listen, talking about my feelings doesn’t come naturally, but I’m trying to do better. In the woods, I realized how close we were to losing everything and I would have died with more than a few regrets. So, I’m going to try not to hide my feelings. Key word beingtry. I’m not magically a new person.”

I cup her face, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “I don’t want you to be anyone else, Cube. I love you for who you are. I always have.”

Ruby turns her head and nips at my palm. “Okay, no more sappy stuff, or I’m going to cry. My head is fuzzy enough. I don’t need to make it worse.”

“I can handle that. How about I go make you a sandwich, and then we can take a nap?”

“Look at that. I got my superpower after all.”

Ruby grins as I move her to the bed and get up. I’m almost out of the bedroom when she calls out.

“Don’t think I forgot about the dick and glitter bomb, Ezzie. You’d better make it up to me, or payback will be a bitch.”

I eye her over my shoulder with a sly smile on my face. “I can’t wait to get on my knees and beef for forgiveness, Cube.”

Ruby’s reply follows me out into the kitchen. “Damn straight.”

EPILOGUE

RUBY

ONE YEAR LATER

“What do you think, Ms. Ruby?”

I stare down at the painting Trina Sterling has been working on diligently for the last half hour. She’s one of the seven-year-olds in my after-school art program. Today we’re doing still life, and the students are painting a bowl of fruit and a very patient crow who’s sitting on a wooden perch.

Trina’s version of the crow looks more like a black jellybean than a bird, but that doesn’t really matter.

“I love it!” I squeeze her shoulder, and she grins at me before returning to her canvas.

When I got the insurance money from the fire, I had a moment of panic. Would Ezra tell me to move out? Should I move out? Once he saw the check, he’d plucked it from my fingers and made me sit on the couch for a serious talk.

“I can already see the panic setting in, Cube.” Ezra sits on the ottoman in front of me, dropping the check beside him, and cupping my knees with his warm hands. He knows me too damn well. It’s harder than I thought to let go of all the demons of my past. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder when he’ll get sick of me.

“First thing’s first, I’m pretty dependent on Axil living here. I don’t think I’ll survive if you move out and take him from me.”

This idiotic man. He knows me so well he’s figured out how to talk about my anxiety without directly naming it.

He rubs my legs, making sure I keep an eye on him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I breathe out, already feeling a weight off my shoulders.

“Good. Now onto the next question. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do? Don’t think about money or anything, just answer the question.”

“I want to show my art.”

Ezra’s mouth parts in surprise, but he quickly snaps it shut. It’s the first time I’ve said that out loud. It’s as scary as it is liberating. Before I can talk myself out of it, I blurt out the rest of it.

“And I want to help other kids who have nowhere to go, to give them a safe and happy place.” I barely stop to take a breath, wanting to say it all at once. “Art saved me when I was younger. What if I could provide a place where kids could come and make art, and know they have a space to be themselves?”

---