Page 151 of Preacher Man

“No. I.” She took the biggest gulp of air and that gesture had Preacher troubled. He remembered that night at the bar well, she had angry flames spitting out of her eyes, and she’d never been more appealing to him, even as she’d fired venom at him, he’d been confused by it since they’d hardly exchanged a word let alone a bad word, he’d put it down to his reputation. He was guessing looking at her now it had nothing to do with that at all. “I feel like I need to tell you first, then you can decide.”

“Okay, beautiful.” Watching her with unguarded anticipation he saw as shutters came down over her eyes, bare shoulders with the thin camisole straps stiffened, composing herself and she took a slow breath, let it out, and met his eyes.

This was going to be something he did not like hearing.

“About a week before that night I saw you … I was raped, Asher.”

It was strange how a single word, a relatively small word could pack such a devastating punch to Preacher’s midsection. Winded, every bit of air vacating his fucking torso, he could only gape at her as she stared back at him. But then----

“I think I was raped. I’m not even sure anymore.”

And like her tear ducts had restocked, one slipped out of the corner of her eye.

There was going to be worse things Preacher could envision, world disasters, atrocious deaths, vile terrorism, but in that slow sticky long minute of the words coming out of Ruby’s mouth and those same devastating words reaching his ears, registering the look of nausea and unhappiness in her features, he couldn’t think of a solitary event this miserable world had even witnessed that felt worse than this. His fingers clenched around hers.

Someone had hurt his tiny dancer.

Red hot anger began to boil in his sternum.

Somewhere in the back of his brain, in the part that wasn’t planning a brutal murder of hunting down an animal, dragging him to the club’s slaughterhouse and cutting his dick off, he counted the months between that week and right this very second. He counted the days, added up the weeks … all this fucking time … air shuddered through him, his fingers tightened on hers.

Foolish to ever think that it would be his PTSD that pushed Preacher over the edge of sanity, finally.

As he listened to Ruby recount her ordeal, he swallowed reflexively. Deep breath and regroup. Knowing someone had hurt her was what was going to put him over the motherfucking edge.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

“Having a man like Preacher in my corner was the most epic and calming feeling of all.” - Ruby

Her world shrank to a tiny pinpoint. This couch, her and him, she had no more room for anything else when her pulse was beating rapidly, a cold sludging beat. She had to push her grief aside, let it sit by itself for a minute, or she couldn’t get these awful words to come up her throat, to fall off her tongue, and she so wanted to unburden herself.

He‘d asked to marry her.

Who did that?

Would a bad man do that? From all she once knew of the Renegade Souls men, their reputations heralding long before she’d met any of them, the very first night working at Otis' bar she was warned against getting too cozy with the Renegade Souls men, so would the concept of that man offer to marry her in order to gain custody of her nephew?

It was wild.Unbelievable. A dream within her own nightmare.

But Ruby had to deal with this first.

Want was such a small word until it became important. Until it was every heartbeat and breath. Ruby wanted so little and so much at the same time. She wanted Preacher to believe her as she drove the words passed her lips, her eyes downcast and fingers clenched together on her lap. It felt like they were the only two people in the world. “I go on a yearly hike for a week, to regroup from the shit that is life, if only I could have gone to Bora Bora instead. I probably shouldn’t have gone last year, I could have used the money elsewhere, but I’d saved for it and said fuck it. The first night was as blissful as always. I hiked until my legs ached and then went back to the cabin ate hotdogs from the can and read an entire book. I was planning to do the same the next day when I came upon a guy needing help. He was injured. Stupid, right?” She looked at him. His green eyes boring into her face like he hadn’t taken a blink in the last five minutes.Please don’t think less of me.

“You’re thinking abort, abort! Yeah? It's the classic movie with the stupid girl going down to the basement. That’s what I should have done as well, but I helped this guy. He seemed harmless enough. Another red flag I ignored. He was quiet most of the time, didn’t say much and then his fever set in and he was passed out.” The details kept coming, how she treated his leg wound that looked suspiciously like a bullet hole and then became scared as he warned her not to call for help.

“I was planning to get rid of him. I just wanted my week to myself, I needed it so bad. Rita had been threatening to stop me seeing Seb and my uncle Silas was in one of his ‘Jesus will save us all’ phases, sitting outside grocery stores lecturing the damned. I needed that week alone. Be careful what you wish for.”

“Beautiful.” His voice sounded like nails as he reached over, she didn’t know her hands were fisted until he took one, unfolded her fingers gently one at a time and slid their palms together, laced their fingers together. She grabbed on, her only lifeline, held tight, never letting go. “He didn’t hurt me.” she went on. “You expect rape to be brutal and violent. I didn’t even have a scratch and it’s not because I didn’t fight. I did, Preacher, I did I…”

“Shhh, baby. I believe you.”

“He was too heavy. I just couldn’t. But. But.” And this was where words got stuck right at the base of her throat, the part she didn’t want to tell him, because what did that make her, what would he think of her once he knew?Sicko. Disturbed. She started the deep breathing technique that was meant to help anxiety, she’d seen it once on an Oprah show years ago when her mom was high on drugs and she’d stayed home from school to take care of her. She didn’t feel any less calm and Preacher squeezed her fingers. She squeezed his back. “I didn’t want it, Preacher, I want you to understand. This man didn’t beat me or hurt me physically, he didn’t threaten my life, but I told him no, I told him no and to stop so many times, I was terrified. The --- the attack ---the fucker made my body enjoy it and I---- I… shit.” She wouldn’t cry, she’d done too much of that last year, this was recounting a memory, not to swim in its depths again and let it affect her sense of well-being, because if she let that in alongside her grief Ruby was afraid she wouldn’t resurface again and she had to be strong for Seb’s sake. “I hate myself most of all for that. I didn’t want it. Who does that.” The rhetorical question came out before she could stop it, not entirely sure she wanted an answer or an answer that would make her understand. The voice that came out of Ruby was unrecognizable. Brittle.

“Who does what, Ruby? Survive?You. You fucking survived. Come here, you’re too fucking far away, I need you right fucking here.” When he threw so manyfucking’sout she knew he was angry. The flash of green was lovely. His angry tone made her laugh and she let him haul her the two inches separating them onto his lap, his hand at the back of her neck, the other brushing her hair from her face, tipping her chin up so she had no choice but to look into brilliant emerald.

There was a moment of silence as she looked at Preacher and he looked at her. Those seconds ticking by.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind, Rube? You think I’m going to think less of you because a bastard took something from you and your body reacted? I’m so fucking glad you’re okay. So, fucking glad you’re here to tell me about it.” His forehead rested against hers. “I want to hurt anyone who has hurt you. I would kill that bastard if I could. Don’t for a second have guilt over this, you hearing me? This was not your choice, Ruby. You survived, that’s what matters. Don't you hate yourself for this, not when I think so fucking highly of you, I have it on good authority I have excellent taste.”

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