I stand mute, watching it play out, while making no input.
And when we’re done, I head straight out the door, not bothering to even say goodbye.
I know Ruby will be awake, I know she’ll be wondering where I am, and though I had my reasons to leave the house, it doesn’t feel enough.
Ruby
Iknow he’s here. I can feel his presence filling up all the dark spaces in the room.
As I shift to get more comfortable, he’s right beside me, fluffing the pillows, trying to help.
And then our eyes connect.
The bruising around my face has gone down enough so that I can at least see properly but I’m quick to drop my gaze.
“Ruby,” He murmurs, taking my hand, asking what I need, if I’m hungry, if I’m thirsty and I can’t bear it. The tone, the desperation, any of it.
“You tortured me.”
I don’t mean to say it, to voice it, but the words slip out anyway.
“I’m so sorry.” He says, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I don’t reply. There’s nothing I can say.
On some level I get it, if he truly believed I was the traitor, then I deserved everything I got, I deserved a bullet to the head.
But the joke is, it wasn’t me, despite how much Gunnar was trying to make me do it, despite everything, I trusted Preston, I gave him my loyalty and he didn’t hesitate to turn on me.
“Did Levi know what Gunnar was doing?” He asks. “Did he let him…”
“No.” I say, cutting across him. “I don’t think anyone knew. Though I’m not sure if he’d have done anything if he did.”
“He’s going to pay for it, he’s going to pay for everything he’s done.” Preston spits.
I can hear the fury in his voice, the venom too.
I shut my eyes, feeling like this cycle of pain and death never seems to end. It never seems to stop. I really was fooling myself these few months, believing that I could ever have something as unachievable as happiness.
Looking back, I should have played it differently, should have known that such a life was not for me. Instead of running I should have just ended it. Taken a side exit. Killed myself and spared everyone else all this trouble. Preston would have been fine without me, Levi would have died anyway, and Jett, wherever he is, well, he wouldn’t have cared, probably he would have been relieved not to pretend anymore, not to have to waste anymore time on me.
I let out a long exhale, one that sends a flash of white-hot pain through my spine, and once more those useless tears slide down my cheeks.
“Just do it.” I whisper.
“Do what?” He asks.
“Kill me. Get it over with.”
He reacts like he’s the one in pain, like he’s been shot. “Why the fuck would I do that?” He snarls.
I start crying harder, my tears becoming an uncontrollable sob. “Please, just end it. I want it to end. I want it to stop. I can’t do it anymore…”
He growls, wrapping his arms around me like it might bring me comfort.
“I’ll make it stop.” He states. “I’ll protect you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
Those words should be a comfort.