Page 175 of Show Me

Sam snatches a blanket off the recliner and hands it to Ruby. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She smiles at him.

“No problem.” He shoves his phone into his pocket. “Jake said that patrol is driving by your place every hour to check on things.”

“Good.”

“But honestly? I agree with Jake. I don’t think tonight was about getting inside.” Ruby’s attention shifts toward him. “They wanted you awake. Scared. Reactive.”

My jaw flexes. “Mission accomplished.”

Nobody argues.

Ruby stares down at the blanket in her lap before speaking. “I thought it stopped.”

I know exactly what she means. The quiet week. The dinners. The way things had started feeling almost normal again. “Yeah. So did I.”

That’s a lie. Maybe. Or maybe I wanted it badly enough to pretend.

The room falls silent again. Not comfortable. Not awkward. Just tired. Worn thin. Ruby’s hand finds mine beneath the blanket a second later. Small movement. Automatic. I lace our fingers together without thinking.

Not that anyone notices. Ben has joined Sam in the kitchen, where they’re talking so low I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Ruby leans into my side. Not much. Just enough that I feel it.

Outside, wind rattles faintly against the windows. Ruby tenses again. Son of a bitch. I want to kick this guy’s ass for making her feel this way.

Chapter Ninety-Two

Ruby

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that the ceiling isn’t mine. My brain struggles to catch up. Different fan, different light fixture. Different room.

Then the memory of glass shattering in the middle of the night crashes back into place. I sit up. The bedroom is silent except for Squirt sprawled heavily on the floor beside the bed, little snuffling sounds puffing out of him every few seconds.

Xavier’s room. A flannel shirt tossed over a chair. His boots near the wall. A flashlight sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.

The reality settles in after that. I slept here with him. And judging by the fact that nobody questioned it last night, everyone else knows it too.

My stomach tightens, not because it feels wrong. Just… strange. Not bad strange. Just different. Too much happened last night for my brain to sort through what that means. The broken glass keeps trying to push back into my thoughts instead.

“Okay,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. “We’re not doing that yet.”

I tug on my hoodie and step into the hallway. The smell of coffee drifts from the kitchen.

Sam leans against the counter with a mug in one hand and his phone in the other. He glances up when I walk in. “Morning.” His voice is quieter than usual, careful, as if he’s hoping I’m not going to break.

“Morning.”

“You sleep any?”

“A little.”

He tips his head toward the coffee pot. “Help yourself.”

I pour a mug and wrap both hands around it before taking a sip. The warmth helps more than I expect.

Jake sits at the kitchen table scrolling through something on his phone. He looks up when I sit down. “Checked the property. Nothing else but what you already saw. No fingerprints. We also pulled the traffic cam near the highway entrance. Nothing useful yet.”