Chapter 2 – Bad, Sick, Horrible

Contrary to popular belief, Paul felt really bad about putting Ruby in the hospital. Sure, he messed with her a lot, called her names and said a lot of fucked-up shit to her, but that was mainly because her utter disregard for his existence utterly infuriated him. For some reason, even back when they were little kids, Paul had wanted Ruby's attention. At first, his idiotic pigtail-pulling schtick worked just fine. She huffed and glared, and it was glorious… but then Ruby started ignoring him—totally blanking him no matter what he said or did. He took full responsibility for escalating the harassment over the years, but she shouldn't have ignored him.

He absolutely despised being ignored.

Still, he may have shoved her around a few times, knocked her books out of her hands, and knocked her down in the hallways, but it wasn't really that bad. And he'd never flat-out attacked her before—certainly not viciously enough to send the tiny girl to the ER with multiple broken bones and head-to-toe bruises.

Not long after, when he finally phased for the first time, when the overwhelming anger calmed and he realized what he'd done, Paul felt sick. He tried to run back to help her, but Sam stopped him with an alpha order. That was before finding out that Ruby's mom went to the cops and was trying to get Paul locked up for the brutal assault. If the elders and the council hadn't run interference, especially during the time when he couldn't unphase and then could barely stay unphased, Paul probably would've been tried as an adult, convicted, and sentenced to at least a nickel in Walla Walla… where he likely would've spent a single night before going wolf on the first convict to mess with him. The resulting clusterfuck and government coverup and alien autopsy were too horrible to consider.

So, yeah, Paul was grateful. Given the circumstances, anger management classes (i.e., enduring hours of scathing disapproval from Old Quil while the geezer made him chop literal tons of wood) and community service (i.e., doing his normal patrolling plus some extra while Sam lectured him) were nothing to complain about.

When Paul was told, in no uncertain terms, that he would be offering a sincere apology to Ruby, the young wolf had no complaints. He felt really bad, sick, horrible about what he'd done. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the incident or about her, about the last glimpse he'd gotten of her—curled in a tiny, bloody, broken ball in the mud. That was his last human memory, and it had been haunting him for weeks.

"I said I don't want an apology."

Paul didn't recognize the voice, but it sent pleasant shivers down the length of his spine and made his wolf sit up and beg; he needed to get closer to its source.

"I don't want him near me, especially not for the purpose of parroting whatever empty bullshit you've crammed into his empty skull."

Was that… No, couldn't be. She didn't talk.

"I'll be in the car."

And then Paul was shoving open the door to the small conference room and staring into the startled dark eyes of his gorgeous little soulmate.

Who was hurt and scared and so wretchedly sad that his own heart damn near bled in sympathy.

Who flinched away from him and took the first opportunity to flee like the hounds of hell were nipping at her gorgeous ass.

"Wait!" he cried, trying to follow, throwing fists and elbows at whoever the hell was holding him back.

"Tell me you didn't," Sam snarled, his deep voice annoyed and barely shy of an alpha order. "Damn it, Paul!"

"Let me go!" Paul insisted. He was close to panicking, close to hysterical. He would do nearly anything if they'd just let him go. "She's leaving!" he wailed. "She's hurt! Fuck! Just let me-"

xxXxx

He woke up with a headache and a hole in his chest—metaphorically speaking for the latter but no less painful. One of his asshole brothers had clearly knocked him out and let his imprint escape, and that was so out of line that Paul almost phased right there in the conference room.

"Quite a mess you've made for yourself, boy," Old Quil remarked, leaning over Paul's prone form, which of course had been dumped facedown on the sticky carpet.

"Where is she?" Paul snarled in reply. He felt her absence like a missing limb, like something vital wasn't where it was supposed to be, a nothingness that ached and burned.

Jared leaned into his sightline and nervously reported, "Home. I followed and made sure she got there ok." The gesture was appreciated but did not erase Paul's anger or bitterness.

"Paul," Sam interrupted, frowning more heavily than usual as he loomed, "You imprinted on a girl who has a restraining order against you."

For a long moment, Paul just stared… Then, his higher thinking powers finally emerged from the haze of imprinting magic under which they'd been buried. His imprint was Ruby. Ruby Kayad was his imprint.

Fuck.

He started to shake. "I- I hurt-" He couldn't even say it, and his wolf seemed to shrink back in guilt, horror, and shame, in no particular order.

His last human memory and the preceding whirlwind of rage started playing on a loop inside his tortured mind.

The room began to fill with a high-pitched whine that he was distantly mortified to realize was coming from him.

Old Quil finally put a stop to the impending fit by smacking his knobbly walking stick straight down onto the top of the teen shifter's rock-hard head. "Keep your shit together," the irritable elder barked. "You've got a long road and a lot of groveling in front of you, but the spirits wouldn't have given you the girl if the situation was hopeless."

That… actually made Paul feel slightly better… unless the spirits were huge dicks who were out to torture him… which was still a distinct possibility…

"What's the plan?" Harry inquired, definitely the most laidback of the bunch. "I'd suggest coming clean about the whole wolf thing," he added, munching through a plate of cookies. "But Miriam really is the vengeful type, and that little fit you just threw certainly didn't help her opinion of any of us. She'd probably move to the other side of the world out of spite." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Although maybe Ruby is more reasonable. She seemed very calm and quiet in comparison."

"She hasn't spoken to me since second grade," Paul croaked as the ache in his chest intensified. "She's… stubborn."

Jared snorted and rolled his eyes, scoffing, "You tortured her and encouraged other people to torture her until she went almost totally mute."

The whining started up again, which caused Sam to sigh and elbow Jared in the ribs. "Don't make it worse," their alpha grumbled. Seemingly to himself, he added, "As if we didn't have enough ridiculous shit to deal with."

"Start thinking of ways to fix this," Billy ordered, in full-on chief mode. The old man definitely had not been pleased by Paul's actions. Actually, he'd been utterly furious to discover both the long-term bullying and the actual assault, and he felt horrible and guilty about being in the position of having to protect Paul at his victim's expense. According to Jared, Billy had gone to the high school and savagely reamed the staff and students and instituted a strict zero-tolerance policy for all future incidents. What Billy was going to do to the next non-wolf who crossed him probably wasn't even remotely fair.

Paul could only nod his agreement.

xxXxx

For several months, Ruby did barely anything but eat, sleep, and complete assignments (her allocation of time weighted heavily toward assignments). She was quite surprised at just how fast she progressed through her course modules when she didn't have mouth-breathing classmates and obvious busywork to slow her down. Sure, the girl was on the upper end of the intelligence spectrum, but she wasn't a genius by any measure.

Graduating from high school at barely shy of sixteen suggested otherwise but really was more of a commentary on just how dumbed down the public education system had become—not to mention just how stupid and lazy average students had become as either a cause or an effect of said system. Whatever. Like the old saying went, No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks.

Of course, being a high-school graduate brought a new set of problems, namely that her mother expected Ruby to either begin contributing monetarily to their household or find somewhere else to live. Although not unreasonable, the mandate nearly pushed the girl into a full-blown meltdown (which was a shame, because her mental health had also greatly improved during those months; apparently, not being assaulted and belittled almost every day did wonders for the psyche).

Without a car, Ruby would have to look for work within walking distance, which meant on the rez, which meant encountering and having to interact with and serve the very same vicious idiots who'd driven her out of high school and close to death.

So, she had to get a little creative. After completing her degree online, she considered herself reasonably tech savvy. Some of her projects had involved creating simple websites, so she knew how to do that as well. A little extra reading and research had her learning to create more complex sites that would accommodate online businesses. Advertising her services in that respect netted a respectable number of gigs. In addition, the girl began building her own website and brainstorming about what products she could make and sell.

Ruby settled on essential oils, with a plan to eventually branch out into candles as well as soaps, bath salts, and other personal-care items. The necessary plant matter was plentiful around her house and in the surrounding forest, not to mention easy—and free—to harvest; additionally, she knew a lot on the subject of herblore from her grandmother—who would probably be considered a medicine woman or an herbalist or a witch, depending on who was asked. (The girl knew for a fact that certain council members definitely tended toward the witch label.)

After receiving permission from her mom to commandeer an old shed close to the tree line in their backyard, Ruby collected some parts at the junkyard as well as a thrift store in Forks and then cobbled together a simple distiller out of a pressure cooker, a hotplate, some copper tubing, and a few other odds and ends. Ordering little glass vials and accompanying labels was her largest expense. Her startup costs would likely be considered miniscule by most standards but still amounted to her entire savings plus a backbreaking yardwork project to convince her mom to provide a modest loan.

(At least the new garden beds were absolutely stunning, if Ruby did say so herself, and she'd been allowed to add many of her own plants as well. Plentiful homegrown produce and even more herbs were certainly nothing to sneeze at.)

Her business got off the ground slowly but steadily. She paid for some online advertising and really worked the "handmade organic Native American product" angle. Almost immediately, she started getting orders from all over the world and locally as well. Emily Young was one of her first and best customers, ordering anywhere from $50 to $200 of product every few weeks. Ruby suspected that the woman might have been trying to slather her healing facial wounds in herbal remedies in an effort to lessen the inevitable scars. Free samples of mixes aimed toward that purpose may have found their way into a few of the orders.

However, the theory that Emily needed all the help she could get to cover the unpleasant odor of her fiancé and his friends was a much more entertaining possibility.

xxXxx

"You got another package from Ruby," Emily announced.

Paul loped happily over to retrieve said package off the counter and spent a moment just savoring the act of holding something that his imprint had touched. The box was small; her essential oils came in tiny glass bottles that looked and felt ridiculous in his massive hands. However, they cost her next to nothing to make, and she sold them at impressive markups. She was so smart. He was happy to be able to support her endeavor, despite the fact that she had no idea Emily's orders were actually his… and that he only knew about her business at all from lurking outside her house at night… and that he'd been not-so-secretly hoping she would deliver them in person…

"What he's got is a problem," Jared commented as he plopped down at the kitchen table and attacked the usual plate of muffins. "He blows most of his stipend on smells. That ain't healthy, man. What are you even doing with all those things?"

Shrugging, very much past caring about his brother's opinion on the subject, Paul answered, "I give 'em to Sue and Old Quil. I gave Emily a few, but Sam says they're too strong." The teen shifter did not admit that the oils were too strong for his own nose as well. As proud as he was of his imprint for starting and running her own business on top of graduating high school years early, he couldn't even open any of her products without ending up sneezing like crazy. "Besides," he continued, "Do you really want to talk about unhealthy spending habits? After you lost almost your whole stipend betting on sports, even the part that was supposed to go to Emily for groceries?"

Jared adopted a look of abject betrayal, which vanished into pain and outrage when Sam's massive palm collided with the back of the shifter's thick skull.

xxXxx

More months passed, and as Ruby's business grew, the girl went from needing weekly to daily rides to the post office to ship orders. Her mother quickly got sick of providing said rides (when she was actually home, which wasn't nearly often enough and thus meant long walks to the post office) and commanded Ruby to buy herself a car. As a reward for her daughter's hard work, Miriam Kayad promised to cover the first year of insurance. Ruby wasn't opposed to the idea; a car would allow her to start selling her products at local craft fairs and farmer's markets. Well, not too local… and maybe she could hire someone to do the fairs and markets for her…

Anyway, she started searching. Other than price, her only standard was reliability; as long as her vehicle didn't break her budget or break down in the middle of a snow storm, she didn't care about anything else. Those low expectations led her several counties away and to a rather strange machine that had started out as an oversized panel van but since been raised; equipped with wide tinted windows on the back and sides; and fitted with massive off-road tires, not quite monster truck wheels but not too far off and definitely enough to require extendable steps to every entrance.

Apparently, those modification had taken place before the current seller acquired the contraption. His own contribution had been to paint it sleek black and add vivid yet tasteful purple flames all across the front. He'd also modified the interior into basically a camper van—complete with a pop-top sleeper cabin roof; a kitchenette with a spacious mini fridge and seating for two, which folded out into another bed; a row of bench seating that was basically a couch, which served as yet another fold-out sleeping surface; a tiny bathroom with a solar shower and composting toilet; a miniature wood-burning stove; and more than enough tidy storage to hold a great deal of outdoor equipment and at least a month of supplies. A retractable side awning operated by the same remote that controlled the pop-top roof and blackout shades finished the package.

Ruby loved it. Fortunately, the seller's new wife hated it, meaning that he had to get rid of his "bachelor pad on wheels" very quickly, lest his blushing bride visit violence upon the "ridiculous, utterly impractical eyesore." In fact, the man was so pleased by Ruby's obvious appreciation of his masterpiece—and so desperate to get it safely away from his lady love's clutches—that he lowered the already insanely low price. Ruby drove home well under budget and already planning all the adventures that she'd have in her new "car." In honor of the man who'd generously rehomed his home away from home, she promised not to rename her new ride. Jezebel was a rather fitting moniker anyway.

"Oh my god, look at that thing."

"Overcompensation much?"

Even before she recognized the voices, Ruby found herself instinctively cringing in response to them as well as cursing her luck. She'd made sure to stop at the gas station on the fringes of Forks rather than waiting for the one on the fringes of the rez, but her efforts were apparently in vain. Thankfully, she didn't think that the owners of the voices had spotted her. All she had to do was calmly slink away and wait for them to leave. A gas station burrito sounded really good at the moment…

"Hey! It's the mute!"

"Hey, mutey! We thought you died! Didn't we, Dori?"

"Well, more like hoped, Gay."

Dorleesa "Dori" Cowden and Gay Lake were textbook mean girls. Ruby theorized that the pair often referred to collectively as "Dori 'n' Gay," two of her most ardent tormenters, lashed out as a defense mechanism—victimizing others because their own ridiculous monikers would have otherwise made them obvious targets. Ruby kind of pitied them.

However, that pity was not enough to override her dislike of the ditzy duo or her annoyance at encountering them… Then, she remembered that they were not in the protected bubble of high school; in the real world, if the spiteful pea-brained hags laid a finger on her, Ruby could and definitely would have them arrested for assault.

The realization instantly brightened her mood. However, smirking in response to their taunts had probably not been the best choice.

"Don't fucking smirk at me, you ugly little whore!" Dori shouted, shoving Ruby against the gas pump.

Gay immediately added her own shove, leaning closer to hiss, "Who do you think you are, mutey? A few months of not being put in your place make you forget it? We'll remind you. Won't we, Dori?"

"Sure will, Gay," the other half of the pair agreed, practically slavering over the opportunity for cruelty. "Worthless freak. God, freaks like you shouldn't even be allowed in public."

They probably would've continued indefinitely—or more likely, until their pitifully short attention spans and vocabularies ran out. However, a strange, almost subsonic snarl made both bullies freeze.

The source of said snarl stepped into view and revealed himself as Sam Uley, who wore an absolutely menacing expression and absolutely no fabric on his impressive upper body. "Cowden and Lake," he identified, making the girls cling to each other and back up in a big hurry, "Chief Black is going to want to discuss your behavior."

Ruby got the impression that discuss your behavior was code for ream you a set of skanky new assholes and then possibly boot them and anything still attached out of the tribe for good.

The bullies seemed to get the same impression and fell all over themselves and each other to flee from the obviously enraged brick shithouse and his possibly homicidal tendencies.

However, as soon as the pair were gone, Sam's mien of fury melted. The lack of menace made him appear much younger and definitely far less dangerous. "Are you alright?" the enormous man asked, voice gentle but still surprisingly deep.

Ruby nodded. She was fine. The incident was mild compared to most of her interactions with her bloodthirsty peers. Neither her body nor her belongings had been damaged, and she'd long since developed a very thick skin for insults.

"Good," the man murmured, smiling hesitantly. "I'm Sam, by the way. Sam Uley. And you're Ruby?"

She nodded again.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "Do you need a ride?"

Somehow, slowly raising her eyebrow managed to clearly convey her thought of You expect me to accept a ride from a huge shirtless stranger lurking in a gas station parking lot?

Sam chuckled sheepishly, muttering, "Yeah, maybe that would be weird… I can call someone for you."

Ruby shook her head and, because he did seem genuinely concerned and genuinely not horrible, rapped her knuckles against her new ride.

After blinking at it for a long moment, Sam wondered, "That's yours?" At her confirmation, he declared, "Wow, it's… something…"

His sorry attempt at being complimentary made her smile just a bit. "Thanks," she whispered, already shuffling toward the gas station's main building. "Bye."

Sam seemed nice and all, but Ruby had some security footage to collect and some bimbos to ruin.

xxXxx

She spoke to you. Paul was flabbergasted and didn't know whether to rejoice at the sound of his imprint's soft, timid voice—even secondhand—or be unspeakably jealous that she had chosen to share it with Sam rather than with him. She actually spoke to you.

Accompanied by a huff, Sam's gruff response echoed through their connection. Did you miss the part where people are still messing with her? Billy's furious. And she seriously went and filed charges against those two idiots.

Paul snarled and slammed his paw through the next thick pine he passed. You're supposed to be helping me manage my anger, he growled, Not pointing out shit that makes me want to kill idiots.

Everything makes you want to kill idiots, Jared contributed.

Ire rising, Paul snapped, So just imagine what I want to do to ones who attack my imprint!

No need to imagine, Jared sighed. You're broadcasting a slasher flick. Why don't we talk about something else? Like, hey! Your imprint bought an ugly van! That's cool!

Paul was absurdly proud of Ruby for being so successful and buying her first vehicle all on her own… However, the more he started to think about her behind the wheel, the more he began to freak out about the fact that she would be behind the wheel without him beside her. What if she got into a wreck? Someone could hit her! She could hit black ice! Or a deer! There were too many fucking deer around! They were dangerous hazards to drivers, damn it! Paul resolved to go kill a few (deer, not drivers, of course), and maybe Billy would agree to petition for more hunting permits for tribal land…

You're totally ridiculous, man, Jared complained.

What if her tires blew or her brakes failed or her gas tank exploded? Did she even have the van inspected before she bought it? Maybe he could convince Billy to send Jake sniffing around. The baby alpha didn't need much of an excuse to dive headfirst into any engine.

That's not a bad idea, Sam agreed, only slightly uncomfortable with his recent realization that since his encounter with Ruby at the gas station, he was starting to see her as kind of a… well, almost a little sister, one who needed to be protected from bullies and perverts.

Despite knowing that both descriptions included him, Paul couldn't bring himself to express his indignation. He had bullied her mercilessly, and his thoughts toward her hadn't been even close to pure since puberty reared its ugly head. If he'd been a smarter or better adjusted individual, maybe he would've realized and properly handled his immense crush on a gorgeous girl who refused to speak to him. Maybe he would've apologized and started treating her better. Maybe she would've eventually forgiven him and finally acknowledged him and let him be her friend and more.

However, none of those things had happened; instead, Paul had continued to harass her for several additional years, which culminated in an assault and a restraining order, albeit an unofficial one being handled through the tribe rather than the criminal justice system. He'd found himself in the unenviable position of having to stalk his imprint just to be near her and keep from going insane with guilt and fear and worry and longing. Months had passed, but he had yet to come up with even the slightest hint of a strategy for earning her forgiveness and building a real relationship with her.

Despite Old Quil's reassurances, Paul did not yet believe that such things were actually possible.

You're both ridiculous, Jared complained. I never thought that being a badass vampire-killing spirit warrior would involve this much drama.

With a loud scoff, Sam sent them a distinct impression of a horrendous smell and a thought of, Well, here's some fitting excitement for you. Fresh trail on the northern border.

The rest of the evening was spent tracking and annihilating a vicious monster, so Paul didn't have much time to fixate on his tragic personal life.

xxXxx

Ruby and her mom didn't get many visitors. In fact, their entire family line was notorious for producing loners who could turn vicious with slight (or absolutely no) provocation. The name Kayad meant "shark" and had been earned quite honestly by some relative many years before and many more relatives throughout the decades since. Miriam Kayad had certainly done her own part to contribute to the family legacy.

(Sometimes, Ruby wondered whether the influence of her unknown sire had prevented her from inheriting the infamous Kayad backbone.)

(Although sharks didn't actually have backbones, or any bones, given their cartilaginous skeletons, so… Well, it wasn't a perfect metaphor.)

Regardless, the fact remained that neither Ruby nor her mother was particularly social.

(However, they had not yet reached the level of Ruby's grandmother, Miriam's mother, who was only a Kayad by marriage but had become an actual hermit; Granny lived in a one-room off-grid cabin in the deep woods and hadn't ventured anywhere near civilization during the almost ten years since Grandpa Reuben died. Only Miriam and Ruby ever visited her; at Granny's cranky insistence, even that happened only once every few months and really only as an excuse to deliver whatever supplies the old woman couldn't do without or forage or make for herself (mostly whiskey, chocolate, and bullets).)

Miriam and Ruby didn't have close friends or neighbors who would drop by just to chat, and the mother–daughter pair's cozy little home was certainly too remote for door-to-door salesmen or Jehovah's Witnesses.

Cautiously, Ruby crept out of her office/bedroom and slid sideways along the front wall to peek a single eye between the front window and its heavy curtain. Moments later, she began wondering what the hell Jake Black was doing at her house.

He was a year behind her and had never taken part in her torment. However, they weren't friends or even acquaintances. She didn't remember ever interacting with him at all. The only reason she could think of for the kid to show up at her house and abuse her doorbell was that his father had sent him. Quite frankly, she was not in the mood to deal with anything that the chief wanted or needed or had to say.

So, she shuffled quietly away from the window and returned to her office/bedroom to ignore the next ten minutes of persistent ringing and knocking. Ruby was easily able to tune out the noise and instead concentrate on answering emails from customers, suppliers, and local businesspeople who were interested in carrying her products in their shops.

Ruby's office/bedroom was located at the back of the house, and her desk was pushed up against the window to give her a lovely view of the back lawn and tree line. Sometimes, she was lucky enough to spot deer and other wildlife sauntering past, so she generally kept her curtains open.

Apparently, Jake Black took that as an invitation to move his knocking to the glass directly in front of Ruby's face.

She jumped nearly out of her skin and was shocked to look up and see a grinning boy standing where only fluffy woodland critters were meant to tread. The fact that she froze didn't deter him at all from gesturing for her to open the window. Against her own better judgement, she did, just a crack, intending to tell him to quit being a creeper and get the hell out of her backyard.

"Hi!" he chirped, actually shoving the window open far enough to allow half his gangly body to lean inside (making her remember that she really needed to replace the screen). "I heard you got a new van. Can I take a look at it? Free inspection, y'know?"

As a person who generally preferred the path of least resistance, Ruby saw no reason not to sigh and hand over her keys. Everyone on the rez agreed that Jake was a wizard with engines.

The boy bounced away like a happy puppy with a new squeak toy and stayed busy in the driveway for several hours.

Ruby kind of forgot that he was there, and she only remembered again when she got up to make lunch and saw him still tinkering away. She decided that his efforts deserved to be rewarded, so she prepared an extra portion of leftovers and brought it out to her pushy little mechanic. After startling him as he came out from under the hood and shoving the plate into his grime-coated hands, she turned around and marched back inside without another word.

Not even five minutes later, Jake invited himself inside and beelined right to the kitchen. He presented his empty plate and gushed, "That was awesome! Did you make it?"

Newly bewildered, wondering how the hell she'd forgotten to lock the door (or if the odd boy had jimmied it), Ruby nodded. It was just baked pasta. Nothing special, really. No technique required. Not cooking as much as assembling ingredients and managing not to burn them. She returned to putting her own meal in the microwave for a quick reheat.

"You're a great cook," Jake gushed. "Do you mind if I get some more?"

Although doing so would probably mean smaller portions or an extra trip to the grocery store that week, Ruby nodded and left the dish on the counter for whatever self-serve was desired. Even if he demolished her careful meal-planning, the sacrifice would be far cheaper than hiring a real inspector. She'd looked over the vehicle before buying it, but her expertise on the subject of auto maintenance began with a stolen auto-shop textbook and ended with the internet. A second and much more qualified opinion (that didn't come from a random forum) was actually appreciated.

However, that left Ruby having to deal with Jake Black at her kitchen table. The realization made her wonder just how the hell she'd landed in such a strange situation. Well, at least he seemed to either not notice or not care about her awkwardness and silence.

In fact, the kid was apparently content to carry the full conversation on his own, babbling away about her van, which was thankfully in great shape. Jake was fascinated by the solar electrical system as well as the water system, both of which were quite unusual for standard vehicles, at least the type that he typically dealt with. "I guess water and plumbing are common for RVs," the boy explained, "But solar is still pretty rare. I'm gonna ask my science teacher if I can do a project about solar energy. Maybe someday I can make a car that actually runs on solar instead of gas!"

Ruby smiled at his enthusiasm and refrained from informing the budding engineer about what the big corporate automakers and oil companies would likely do to him if he managed to accomplish such a feat. Special interest groups weren't fond of anything that might upset their lucrative status quo.

A chime from the doorbell interrupted the conversation, and before she could slink up to the gap in the window to see who was there, Jake bounced over to and threw open the front door. He was just in time to see a delivery truck peel out of the driveway. Only one company actually delivered as far as the rez, and the driver certainly didn't hide how much he despised doing so—the jury was still out on whether it was the inconvenience or the brown people to which he objected (possibly both).

Regardless, the man had left Ruby's latest purchase (affordable due to the money she'd saved on her van) unharmed on the front step.

Jake retrieved the package and placed it carefully on the kitchen table. Although obviously curious and eager to see what was inside, he didn't ask her about or press her to open the box.

Ruby pretended like it wasn't there. For the moment, she wasn't going to tell anyone that she'd been feeling like someone was watching her house and her in particular. If Jake found out and ran his mouth about the four discreet trail cameras that she would be installing as soon as he left, then the wireless devices wouldn't be effective at capturing potential stalkers and creeps.

xxxxxxxxxx

This is a bit of a slow chapter, but I wanted a significant time skip with little to no interaction between Ruby and Paul. I've never understood the stories that go from bullying to dating in about a week and one half-ass apology. The next chapter (already written) is where shit starts to get wild. I'm not promising anything, but let's say twenty-ish reviews would probably make me post faster :)

Fun facts:

Dori 'n' Gay are a caricature of several girls I met throughout my public-school education, elementary through high school. Every time someone tried to bully me, I either made them cry or made them bleed, usually in front of all their idiot friends. Moral of the story: don't mistake someone who's quiet for someone who won't utterly destroy you verbally and physically.

At the time this chapter was written, I was watching a lot of YouTube videos about tiny homes and van life (which you can research for some ideas about what Jezebel looks like). Yeah, it's random, but I turned it into a plot point. The detail is also loosely based on how a friend of mine ended up with her first car, namely that some poor guy had to get rid of his pride and joy in a big hurry because his new wife was threatening to destroy it. Stellar way to start a marriage, am I right?

Essential oils make me sneeze. I discovered this when some MLM bitch shoved a bottle practically up my nose and then got a snot spray all over her face in return. Not sorry.