It's been a couple of days now, Mike thought to himself.

Mike had gone into town a few times in the last three days, hoping to find Ruth but never could.

Mike finished the library book she had lent him the other day and wants to return it to her safely. When he hadn't seen her around, Mike took it upon himself to look up her home address. There is a total of two Greyson's here in Derry. The most logical one was Jordan and Jonathan Greyson. Timothy Lars Greyson recently passed away from terminal lung cancer this past week. So, here Mike is, searching for Ruth to unite her with the beloved book.

Mike liked it a lot. He may even consider it his favorite. Now, he wants to read Ruth's other favorite.

What was the other book Ruth liked again? Donovan's Brain? It sounds about right, Mike thought to himself with a light shrug.

The late afternoon sun started to descend towards the horizon. It will be dark in a couple of hours. There's barely anyone on the road today, especially in these parts. It's a neighborhood that Mike is not familiar with. He's been around Derry plenty, but never this far on Witcham Street. He watched out the passenger window of the varied homes for an address.

"Are you sure it's down here, Mike?" his granddad, Leroy, questioned.

"Yeah, it's the street. I'm just not sure which house she will be in." Mike answers, glancing at the numbers as they passed.

"You could have left the book at the library, you know."

"I know," Mike pauses, thinking. "I just, I don't know. I guess I wanted to see her."

Leroy lightly frowns, "You wanted to see Ruth?"

He doesn't answer straight away, but Mike eventually does. "Maybe, yeah. Ruth looks like she needs a friend or two."

"Like you?"

Mike gulps. It's true, he doesn't have any friends either. Well, maybe a few Mike chums up with, but they're not precisely buds. Mike figured if he could befriend Ruth, then they both won't feel so alone. At least, Mike hopes. Mike may have met Ruth a couple of days ago, but he already likes her. She's pretty, intelligent, easy-going, and plenty strong.

"Oh, there!" Mike says suddenly in excitement.

Leroy screeched to a stop, causing Mike to jolt forwards. He chuckles from the soft yelp Mike made.

"A warning would have been nice," Mike grumbled.

"Oh, sorry. You said we were here."

Mike won't show it, but he rolled his eyes. He stares at the one house that is different from the others. The siding is an eggshell white and the roof a deep forest green. It's a decent ranch style home with the same color green shutters, along with a concrete slab for a two-step porch. The shrubs lining the large front windows are trimmed and shaped to perfection. There are also yellow and purple pansies lining the sidewalk. Mike had to wonder now what Ruth's parents do.

He stares at the green door, nervous. Mike is beginning to question if he should be doing this. It's a bit too late now. He heaves a sigh then exits the truck.

"Mike?" Leroy called to him.

"Yes, granddad?"

Leroy stared at him, growing concerned for the boy. He wanted to tell him something but opted not to say anything. He'll tell Mike afterward.

"Never mind. You have five minutes."

Mike nods then started down the driveway. It a short drive to walk, but it seemed to take forever. His feet started dragging and felt weighed down.

Oh god, am I doing the right thing in coming here? He asked himself.

Mike approaches the six-panel door with a frown then knocks. Mike waited a moment for someone to answer, none. Mike thought about knocking again when he heard steady footsteps. He holds his breath, hoping that it's not one of the parents.

Once the door opened, Ruth greeted his vision. He lightly sighs in relief. Ruth stares, disturbed to see him here.

"Mike?" Ruth questioned in a hushed whisper.

"Hey, Ruth," Mike starts with a big grin. He noticed the bruise on her lip.

"Keep your voice down," She insisted lowly, her eyes wide with fright.

Ruth glances over her shoulder towards the hall before stepping outside.

"What are you doing here? How did you even find me?"

"What happened to your lip?"

She goes to answer, only to shut her mouth. Mike watched her gulp and nervously look over her shoulder.

"I can't talk about it right now. Why are you here?"

Mike heaves a sigh. "My granddad had some business in town. I asked him if he could bring me here, so I could return your library book. I looked up your address in the phone book. I haven't seen you around lately. I guess I wanted to see if you were okay."

Ruth's features soften slightly, and gently smiles. He noticed a faint blush on her cheeks. Mike swallows, a little intimidated in talking now. He noticed Ruth is wearing a flattering shade of honey orange. Ruth's eyes are a little browner today. Mike wets his tongue and lips.

Speak, you idiot! Damn, she looks cute today. Tell her that, stupid, Mike thought to himself.

"Mike," Ruth lightly calls to him.

Mike snaps out of his sudden daze and regards Ruth with a half-smirk, blushing.

"Uh, you look cute today."

He sees Ruth visibly flinch from the compliment. However, he does see the pink in her cheeks deepening, and Ruth pressing her lips to suppress a smirk. Ruth doesn't win.

Mike's chest inflates from a swell of pride. He got Ruth to smile.

Ruth suddenly clears her throat and avoids eye contact with him.

"You shouldn't be here, you know," Ruth whispers gently.

"I know, I just_?"

Mike doesn't get to finish when he hears a male voice calling for her.

"HEY! Ruthie, who in the fuck is at the door?" Jonathan roars from the bedroom.

Ruth's demeanor changes alarmingly fast, and curses under her breath.

"Ruth, what's wrong?" Mike asks lowly.

"Lie," Ruth urged lowly. Her eyes are wide and fearful.

"Tell me, what's wrong, Ruth." Mike gently urged, leaning forwards in alarm.

"I don't have time to explain."

"What is going on?"

"Mike!" Ruth pleads in a whisper again.

"Ruth," he pushed.

"Just please, you need to lie," she pleads urgently, almost crying.

Mike figured it out then. His jaw squares and lips tighten. Ruth is being abused, and the father is the perpetrator. Inside, he's bobbing on his heels like a boxer ready to punch his opponent.

Ooh, I wish I had a bat! I could club that 'sum bitch, he thought.

"Hey! Amber, who is," Jonathan stops once he approached and saw Mike. "And just who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Mike Hanlon. Is this the Greyson residence?" Mike asked the adult poker-faced.

"It is, what of it?"

"I found this on the sidewalk the other day. I checked with the library to see who borrowed it. Apparently, a," he paused to look at the name. "Ruth Greyson checked it out. I wanted to return it myself instead of leaving the book at the library for her."

"Oh, I was wondering what happened to it," Ruth chimes and takes the book from him. "Thank you, um, what's your name again?"

Mike goes to answer when he noticed something. Jonathan looks nothing like Ruth. He would have thought Ruth would have a trait or two of his, but there aren't any specific features. Ruth doesn't have dark blond hair or these dangerous gunmetal gray eyes. She doesn't even have the same nose.

Maybe, she took after her mother, Mike, rationalized to himself.

Apparently, he had an expression on his face that Jonathan caught.

"What are you starring at, punk?" Jonathan quipped.

"Oh, um, nothing, and the name is Mike."

"Well, Mike, buzz off," Jonathan orders and leaned over Ruth.

Mike saw this as the grown-up showing his dominance over Ruth. Frankly, it made his blood boil. He glances at Ruth, seeing her rigid and stone-faced. She didn't have to say anything since her eyes did the talking. Ruth is terrified. He inwardly nods, knowing what he needs to do now.

"Sorry to have bothered you. I just wanted to make sure this got returned safely. It was nice meeting you, Ruth." Mike replies with a friendly smile.

"It was nice to meet you, too. Mike. Thanks for returning the book."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing it over, now scram. Come back inside, Ruthie, darling." Jonathan instructs.

"Okay, daddy," Ruth forced, then started to follow.

"Oh, wait! I left my bookmark in there."

Ruth glances over at him. He has a blank expression, which unnerved her for some reason.

"Where in here is it?"

"I can't remember where. Do you mind if I thumb through it?"

She hands him the book back for Mike to search, but he snatches her wrist and draws Ruth close.

"Mike?"

He shushes her.

"Ruthie!" Jonathan called.

"Coming," Ruth answers over her shoulder, then turned back to Mike. "Mike, I need_."

"If you ever need anything, anything at all, come find me. Okay?"

Stunned, she looks at him in alarm. "Mike?"

"Ruth!"

"My number is on there, too. Don't hesitate to call me. I'm going to help you, Ruth."

Mike stares at Ruth then, determined to help her out. He knows she deserves better. He can feel her tremble, rightfully so. Ruth is afraid and for a good reason. If Jonathan finds out what Mike is doing, he'll kill him. That is if he doesn't kill Ruth first.

"Michael! Let's go!" Leroy Hanlon called out to his grandson with a honk.

"Coming! I'll see you around, Ruth. Be careful, okay."

He tenderly squeezes Ruth's wrist then turns away, rushing back to his grandfather's truck. Mike waves goodbye before hopping in on the passenger side.

Ruth could only watch in stunned horror as Mike drove off. She wanted to feel relieved, but Ruth is truly terrified right now. Mike found out.

"Amber, NOW!" Jonathan roars.

"Oh, um, sorry, coming." Ruth rushes back inside the house.

Little did she know, things are about to change. Either for the better or worse.

The ride home is quiet, sort of. The occasional bumps on the road rattled the truck bed like metallic squeak toys. The buildings are behind them, and all they see now are fields on either side. Mike sat in his seat and staring out the window, pondering. He thought about how to start the conversation. Mike doesn't want to outright say what's on his mind. Yet, he also didn't want to beat around the bush either. Mike needs to approach this delicately somehow. He is not a settled person, but he must try.

Leroy glances over at Mike, getting a read on him. There's something on the boy's mind, he can tell. He frowns deeply, growing concerned about Mike's silence. While at Ruth's place, Leroy watched Mike and the white girl talking. He noticed something off about the way Ruth held herself. He didn't like that the scumbag was leaning over Ruth. There's a lot of things Leroy doesn't like about Jonathan or Jordan. They're not pleasant people. He wonders what they are like with Ruth.

Them folks better not have done any harm onto that young lady, Leroy thought to himself.

Leroy likes Ruth as she is nothing like the other white folk. Ruth respects the small black community. He would have to admit, Ruth is undoubtedly cute. He knows that the fiery redhead struck Henry Bowers right in the dong. Thanks for that bit from Mike. He knows that his grandson has already taken a liking to her. Not that Mike should worry about dating girls at this age. At least he is showing interest in the gender.

Leroy smiles. Michael has a dang gum crush on the girl.

"So," he began, glancing at Mike. "Was that the girl you were hemming and hawing about?"

Startled, Mike snaps his gaze at his granddad. "Hmm, what? Oh, um yeah, that was Ruth. I wasn't hemming and hawing."

Leroy scuffs, "Mike, I am no fool. I know you have a crush on the girl."

"No, I don't," Mike quickly defends without making eye contact.

"Hmm, hmm. You are not fooling me, son. Do know Michael, there is nothing wrong in having one. She may be a white girl, but Ruth is cute."

Mike clears his throat. "I barely know her, granddad. How can I have a crush on a girl I hardly know?"

"You don't have to know everything about them to develop a crush, Mike. All it takes is one look, or in your case, riding your bike like Flash Gordon after rescuing her from getting hit by a damn truck. You're her knight in shining armor." Leroy replies with a grin.

Mike lightly scuffs, "Okay, what if I do have a crush on Ruth. How can I help her if she is in trouble?"

Leroy frowns, his brows scrunching. "What are you talking about?"

Mike sighs, gulping. "I firmly believe that Ruth is being abused."

There is a long pause. Mike chances a glance over at Leroy. His granddad's eyes are not on him but on the road. He then noticed the truck slowing and came to a stop.

Oh, crap, I shouldn't have said anything, Mike thought to himself.

Leroy turns in his seat after parking, glaring at Mike. "That is quite an accusation there, Michael. What makes you think that she is?"

Another sigh, eyes staring ahead. "I saw the busted lip when Ruth answered the door. When I rescued Ruth from getting hit, I noticed scars on her forearms. She even had her right hand bandaged. I don't know how she got it. What I do also know is that she was acting nervous before her father came."

Leroy stares at Mike for a moment, processing this. "I noticed from afar how that white bastard Jonathan was leaning over her. That is a sign of dominance, Mike. If she was acting nervous and frightened because of her father, then you may be right."

Mike glances at him, "How do I go about helping her?"

Leroy deeply sighs, regarding his grandson with a frown. "Considering who her parents are, you need to be careful about this. You can't be no knight in shining armor and face them head-on. One step at a time. You first need to get Ruth to trust you."

"How can I?"

"Well, first off, you need to show her that you want to help. Take action and listen."

Mike thought about that for a second. He did give Ruth his home address and number.

"Would," he pauses, unsure if he should mention this bit. "Would leaving the home address and number be the right move?"

Leroy stares at Mike, lightly frowning. "It depends. Why?"

"I wrote down our address and telephone number for Ruth. Originally, I wasn't going to, but my gut told me differently. When I saw how afraid she was, I had to tell her I was going to help."

As Mike explained, Leroy's eyes grew. The hell is the matter with you, boy!

He wants to yell, but this is something that Leroy can't berate Mike over. His grandson is doing the right thing.

"You do realize you could get Ruth in a whole lot of trouble for what you're trying to do for her, right?"

Mike nods, "I know. I could get myself in trouble, too."

"Damn right, you could. If that asshole Jonathan found that piece of paper you left for her, he'll kill your girl, Michael. He may even kill you. If we so much as went to the police about this, they will need some hard evidence to put that man away. Trying to get anything out of Jonathan is like trying to find and pull out a dang gum string from a chicken's ass."

Mike's jaw squares as he wanted to laugh, but he's not going to, though.

Leroy heavily sighs, continuing to eye Mike.

"I commend you of what you're doing for that girl, Mike. I know I can be a hard-ass and get on your case, but you did well today. You recognized trouble and took necessary action without even consulting me. You asking for advice on how to help is even better."

Leroy eyes Mike for a moment, his lips curling into a proud smile.

"I need you to promise me something."

Mike locks his gaze on Leroy, waiting. "What's that?"

"If Ruth decides to call for help, you best hustle your ass out of the house. Rather she wants to talk or really is in trouble. None of this "takes your damn time to get there" shit. You get your ass to Ruth. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, and one more thing. You need to approach this delicately, Michael."

His brows scrunch, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Meaning, don't be swift to eradicate the problem. If you do things too quickly, Jonathan is going to find out. That man has eyes around town. I even know who the few are. So, you must be careful. It's going to take a little bit for Ruth to trust you completely. So, be patient with her."

Mike nods quickly, understanding. "Yes, sir. I promise I'll be careful. Thanks, granddad."

Leroy's smile broadens, clapping a hand on Mike's shoulder. "You're welcome. Do know, your momma and daddy would be proud of you. You're a good kid, Mike."

Mike lightly smiles as Leroy put the truck back in drive and drove down the road. He feels quite proud of himself for saying something. Although Mike has this sickening feeling that his actions are going to cause problems. Or maybe, things are not going pan out as he hopes. Mike can only hope that he can save Ruth in time.

Ruth knows something is wrong.

There is an undeniable tension hanging in the air between her and Jonathan. The look in his eye frightens her. Ever since Mike left, Ruth got this unbearable ache in her stomach. Ruth had stared at the piece of parchment with Mike's information for thirty minutes straight after dinner. She wants to feel happy that Mike saw her scars and is wanting to help. At the same time, though, Ruth is scared out of her mind.

What if Jonathan finds out? He instructed her to go into the bedroom after she was done eating. His demand had Ruth scrambling. She's freaking out. Ruth has a gut awful feeling that Jonathan is going to call Jordan at work about Mike. She hopes not. Ruth is scared shitless of what Jordan might do if her mother ever caught wind of what Mike is doing. She told Ruth to keep away from people, and Ruth defied that instruction. Ruth is even second-guessing about letting Stan patch her up. She can only hope that he didn't see her scars. If he did, then him, along with Mike, know.

I am so fucking stupid! Why did I lend my library book to him? Fuck! Ruth screamed in her head.

She sat on her bed, staring still at Mike's information while massaging her earlobe and tapping at the faux pearl earrings.

Ruth sighs heavily, the ache in her stomach becoming tighter.

Something is so very wrong.

She hears heavy footsteps approaching her door.

Ruth gasps sharply. She quickly tucks the parchment in the back of her underwear.

Jonathan raps at the door.

She swallows tightly, growing rigid.

"Come, come in," Ruth answers timidly.

He enters then slowly approaches her bedside. Jonathan has his hands tucked in his jean pockets and eyes on the floor. Ruth doesn't have to look him in the eye. Jonathan has a predatory gaze on him and jaw squared. She grew nervous as he gently sat on the bed, still not looking at her. Ruth did everything in her power not to back away. She refused to glance his way, gulping harshly.

Jonathan inhales sharply, slowly breathing out.

"You know, that Mike boy had me thinking," Jonathan starts.

Ruth watched from the corner of her eye him reaching for his belt.

"I had to wonder how he could have gotten our address. Yeah, the library could have given him the information. However, if a book was lost, they would keep it there until the person returned for it."

Ruth remained silent. She continued to watch his movements, though. One hand is at his belt, the other behind her. Ruth breathed steadily, her heart racing.

"I called the library to validate. Mike was never there. If he wasn't, then how did he find out where you lived, Ruthie?"

She gulps. "I don't know," Ruth answers, toneless.

Jonathan sighs, nodding his head a little. "Okay, then."

His hand from behind Ruth snaps upwards and grabs a handful of her hair. Ruth bares her teeth, fighting a yelp. She will not give him the satisfaction.

"Don't you dare lie to me, young lady? Henry called earlier and asked about you."

Her breath hitched.

Oh, fuck me!

"He informed me you were with the black boy, Mike. Why were you?"

She couldn't hide this bit. "He just saved my life by pulling me out of the street. That's it."

Jonathan yanks. Ruth still won't let a sound leave her mouth.

"So, the whole doctor thing saving you was all bullshit? Now, start talking! What happened afterward?"

"Nothing," Ruth quickly defends.

He yanks much harder. "Don't lie to me."

Ruth's breath quickens, her blood boiling.

"I told you, nothing," she growls.

Jonathan pulls again, nearly ripping her hair out.

"Don't you give me that tone, you little bitch. Now, tell me the truth, Amber. What happened afterward? Henry told me what he knew. Now talk!"

"I told you, nothing happened!" Ruth screamed.

He whipped his belt out from the loops and struck her thigh. Ruth doesn't yell. No, something else happened. A fuse snapped. She glares viciously at Jonathan with an animalistic snarl crossing her lips and muscles flexing to tear him apart.

"Don't you yell at me, slut! And you better erase that expression from your face before I do it for you!"

Ruth can't control herself, she… had… enough.

"Get your smarmy hand off me, you insolent swine," Ruth growls viciously. Her expression morphed into pure and unrelenting rage, a look that could kill thousands.

Jonathan is startled but will not back down. He struck her again on the arms.

Wrong move on his part as he just unleashed a caged monster deep within Ruth's core.

"What did you say to me?"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Ruth screamed then punched him square in the mouth and nose. Her vision blurred once she saw crimson streaming from Jonathan's mouth and nose.

Jonathan grunts in surprise but retaliates. He backhanded and punched her several times in the gut before throwing Ruth onto the bed. Ruth felt the weight of her bed sink from his tall frame, along with his hands yanking at her pajama shorts.

"Get the fuck off me!" Ruth screeched.

She kicked him at his chest and clawed at his face, causing him to shout.

"Ow! God, fuck! Damnit, you little bitch! Come here, you don't hit me!"

He grabs at her ankles, pulling her towards him.

"Get away!"

Her world goes black as she fought him with every fiber of her being.

The last thing Ruth remembers is a bloody and beaten Jonathan unconscious on her floor. She drops something hefty then bolts out of her room. Ruth could care less about the snot colored shoes. All Ruth knew is that she had to get out of the house and not return ever.

She ran crying and screaming all the way to the one place Ruth felt safe, the house on 29 Neibolt Street.