A/N: Hello, everyone. I hope you are all doing well and staying safe.
Please note, while most of the beginning chapters seem the same in Safe, some details were left out, or I had imagined the scenes differently. You will see more differences in the upcoming chapters.
For this chapter, there is an alternate and additional scene, along with dialogue changes.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the read.
It's getting late. The walk from town to Neibolt was quiet. It's how Ruth likes it sometimes, the silence. It lets her think.
She thought about her sweet and innocent meeting with Mike Hanlon. Ruth fondly smiles at Mike's friendliness, how generous he was, and made her feel appreciated. Mike acknowledged her for who she was and not by the dreaded name. Mike will always see and refer to her as Ruth.
Her running into Stanley left her feeling strangely excited. Yes, she can't be around him or the others. However, he displayed kindness and interest in her. He was attentive to her needs and stood up for her. Stan was always red in the cheeks and seemed nervous around her. Ruth can only assume that the cute Jewish boy found it difficult to speak with her. It answered her assumption of why he wouldn't do more at school. The boy secretly has a crush on her. "The love-struck idiot," as Richie referred to him.
When Ruth had neared her destination, she smiled. Ruth even scuffed at the "No Trespassing" signs upon her approach. The dark and brooding house is eerie. The overgrown grass and weeds added to its intimidating presence. The three-foot sunflowers sagely danced in the light breeze as a touch of innocence. The flowers were only a mask of what really laid beyond the yard. The spooky tree, with its grotesque limbs, stretched like many fingers towards the clouds. Its windows boarded and dingy from the weather. The spires atop the roof reminded Ruth of a medieval castle with the hexagonal-like round room. She can tell the old Victorian home used to be lively and prosperous.
Everyone she knows stays far from here. Its spooky exterior keeps people away. Except, the Neibolt house brought Ruth comfort. Creepy doesn't frighten her. Pennywise, the Dancing Clown, may reside here, but Ruth can only hope the drunken man in the clown suit wouldn't mind her company. She won't bother him too much. All Ruth wants in her lonely, dark world is a place to call her haven. A friend is second on her list of things Ruth wished she had. Her safe place is her number one right now. Hopefully, the Neibolt House is the place.
She sighs heavily, staring into the empty cracker jack box. The sugary popcorn and peanut snack will tie her off until Ruth can scrounge something up at home. That is if Jonathan doesn't do anything to her upon arrival. She shakes her head. Ruth does not want to think about it, at least not now anyway.
Ruth glanced over her shoulder at the broken door. She had hoped the clown was watching her, but no such luck. With another breath, Ruth stood from the steps.
Upon standing, a cold prickle ran along her spine, causing Ruth to stop. The sensation traveled from the nape of her neck to her toes. Curious yet feeling alarmed, Ruth approaches the skewed door with caution.
Someone is here. She can feel it.
Ruth peers slightly, angling her torso to see inside.
"Hello?"
Nothing but Ruth knew she wasn't alone.
Ruth hums curiously, screwing her lips. She is itching to explore the house. She glances down at her watch, six-twenty. Ruth has little time to investigate.
"Maybe another time," Ruth thought out loud.
She quickly turns to descend the steps and down the cracked, weed sprung path. Ruth suddenly stops from a thought. She glances back at the house and pulls the second box of cracker jacks from within the shopping bag. She returned to the steps and sets the carton on the deck as a peace offering.
Ruth smiles and scans the door to the broken window. "I got the second box for you. You can keep the prize if you like. I hope it's a nice one. Have a good night now! I'll see you another time."
Ruth then rushes off as she needed to get home and quick. Even as she ran, Ruth felt eyes watching her leave. She couldn't tell if they were just curious about her or getting annoyed. Ruth hopes they're showing interest. To know for sure, she slows to a stop and glances over her narrow shoulder. From this fair of a distance, Ruth saw a tall, dark shadow. She could tell from the silhouette and the blazing fire of hair, Pennywise stood on the porch.
A wave of relief washed over her then, and lips curved into a bright smile. Ruth is glad to see him there as it proved she didn't imagine things. She had a sudden desire to rush up and wrap her arms around his neck but fought the urge. Instead, Ruth flashed him a friendly smile, along with a timid wave, then took off.
Pennywise scowled as he watched Ruth disappear from his sight. This is the second, well third time the girl has shown up here for whatever reason. He doesn't like her intrusion or the fact Ruth is getting friendly towards him. Children should be frightened of him, not chummy. Well, the child does assume he's a homeless person and not for what he really is. She'll find out soon enough when he scares and eats her, of course.
He audibly huffs then started inside the dark Neibolt House. Pennywise pauses once he remembered Ruth left a box of sweets on the porch. The thought of not touching it sounded appealing as it would discourage the child and stop coming around here. However, Pennywise has a smidge of a moral code and doesn't want to offend the girl by not accepting the gift. So, he turned sharply and snatched the box. With a rip, Pennywise opens and tries a piece without hesitating.
It's going to taste like crap anyway, he thought.
Well, consider that thought gone. Pennywise had a big piece of caramel corn mixed with nuts that made his mouth water. Typically, frightened children taste good, but this sweet snack made his lips curve in a gentle smirk then hums. He quickly grabs another, salivating, and hums again. His smile widened into a delightful grin before dumping a good helping into his palm and started munching on it like a horse.
"Oh, yummy," Pennywise comments with a mouthful.
Pennywise continued munching on the popcorn snack as he marched back inside.
He stops mid-step when his teeth bite on something hard like metal.
"Argh! What in the name of Gan?" Pennywise mumbled with the metal object in his mouth.
He hinged his jaw slightly and dug around to find the offending object. Once located and out of his mouth, Pennywise drew to his eye. It's a Scottish Terrier shaped dog charm. He frowns, and brows knit close.
"Why in the hell would this be in here?"
Pennywise then remembered Ruth saying something about a prize. He examined the box up close, finding a blue bubble-burst with "Prize Inside."
"Oh, so that's what the irritant meant. Well, I have no need to a charm."
A brow quirked when a thought occurred to him. Who's to say she might want it for being generous and offering a scrumptious sugary snack? Pennywise wipes the small charm against his suit to clean off any saliva that remained and made sure there were no bite marks.
Once satisfied, Pennywise marched to the front porch and sets the Crackerjack prize on the first step. He has a feeling the girl will come by here again tomorrow and should be able to see it during the day.
Pennywise doubts she will come here at night anyway.
It was almost dark when Ruth arrived home. She is thankful that Jordan is not there. Her red '83 Escort is missing from the driveway. Ruth can only assume Jordan was called into work despite the woman's hangover. Her mother is a grouch and easily offended, so tips will be minimal. Jordan doesn't take pride in anything and is useless around the house. Ruth and Jonathan are the ones having to clean. Most of the time, Jordan works during the day from morning until late afternoon. She rarely works the evening shift. When she does, though, Ruth rejoices.
Oh, thank you, Jesus! No Jordan today! Ruth inwardly hollers in excitement.
Her upbeat attitude died when she remembered Jonathan is strictly a daytime worker. He's home. His brown '79 Ford F-150 4x4 sat out in the drive. Ruth groans as she eyed the truck from a fair distance. She recalls sitting in there on rare occasions listening to the radio. She would have a blank cassette tape ready to record songs she liked. Jonathan had told a workmate of what Ruth was doing as it got on his nerves. They gave him a cassette player for Ruth to have. It was a nice gesture. Mostly it was for Ruth to entertain herself without disturbing Jonathan.
Ruth remembers late one night recording a Simon Garfunkel song she had heard numerous times. Jonathan was not particularly pleased since she did accidentally wake him up. He let Ruth record her song but was punished afterward. She shakes her head at the memory. Other times, she had gone into his truck to record a song, but Ruth made sure he was awake.
She heaves a breath from her lungs then started forwards.
"Might as well face the devil," she thought out loud.
Upon entering her home, Ruth was greeted by a meaty and savory scent. Her mouth instantly watered that she licks her lips. She glances around the hall, noticing the place is clean. Ruth shut her eyes, dread overwhelming her body. Ruth knew Jonathan was going to stay home, but she didn't expect him to do housework. She had been gone all day and didn't even consider helping. Jonathan is going to end up hitting her or much worse.
Ruth gulps then started towards the kitchen. She peered around the corner to see Jonathan cooking. He is making a boxed skillet dinner of hamburger and pasta. Ruth cocked her head, her brows knit and lightly frowns.
"I got called into work earlier today," Jonathan's smooth voice starts. "I thought I was getting canned because I called out sick. Turns out, they had other plans for me and gave me a bonus."
She regards him, slightly nervous from the agitated undertone.
"Oh, cool," Ruth laconically replies.
"Along with a title change and a merit increase."
"Grattis."
Jonathan turned to her, his brows furrowed and lips curved downwards.
"Uh, what was that?"
"Oh, sorry, it's congratulations in Swedish."
He blinks, fainting muttering, "Oh, okay."
Jonathan then scanned his gunmetal grey eyes on the books in her arm.
"I see you went to the library again. And why are you suddenly taking an interest in learning Swedish?"
"I did, and it's something different other than your typical secondary languages such as Spanish or French," Ruth answered with a lazy shrug.
"Oh, it might come in handy. And you went to the drug store as well, I see."
"Yes, I needed a few things."
Jonathan turns towards her, his body wiry and toned as he crossed his arms. "Like what?"
"Girl things."
His gaze hardens, catching sight of the white bandages on her arms.
"Alright, what happened to your arms?"
Ruth gulps, her eyes never leaving his. "I tripped and fell."
Jonathan's glare softens, catching Ruth's nervous tone. "You ran into the lummox, didn't you?"
Ruth fights a smirk. If there's one thing she and Jonathan have in common, it's their vocabulary. Jonathan is smart, but he does occasionally lack common sense like Ruth. Her crossing the street without looking is a good example. She and Jonathan would sometimes have exchanges like this about Henry Bowers and Company. Ruth seldomly gets joy out of it, but not always.
"Yes, I ran into the lummox," Ruth replies, relaxing a little.
"Along the dingus'?" His lips tighten, and jaw squares.
"Yes, them, too. Well, two out of the three, at least. The Tall Dingus wasn't there."
Jonathan pauses, giving her a once over. "Yeah, I know. Patrick's mother just reported him missing. She actually called over her asking if you knew anything about his whereabouts."
Ruth's breath catches in her throat. "I wish I could say I knew something, but I don't. I haven't seen him since the last run-in I had, which was a week ago. I know a lot of kids have been going missing lately. However, from what Victor told me earlier, Patrick went running after someone down in the barrens."
He looks at her, frowning and brows knit. "Have you told anyone else about what you know?"
"No, not yet. I'll talk with the chief about what I know. That is if Victor, along with Henry and Belch, steps forward first."
"Good girl," Jonathan approvingly nods. "How did you escape, anyway?"
With a heavy breath and licking her lips, Ruth prepared herself for the outburst. "I drew attention."
Jonathan stares at her, his lips pursed with features slowly hardening, and muscles flexed. "How?"
"I egged Henry into cutting me."
He started forward, his muscles tightening still. "Excuse me?"
"I wasn't going to let him physically hurt me. I know better." Ruth defends.
She noticed his arms drop, and fingers curled into a fist as he got closer. "Do you?"
"I didn't give him the openings he wanted. Someone intervened, not physically, but called out. It was enough of a distraction for me to elbow Henry in the chest and stomach. For added effect, I kneed him in the groin. Nothing serious."
Jonathan stops right in front of her now. He glares at her from the length of his nose, watching for any sign of Ruth lying to him.
"That's all? Did you do anything to the other two?"
"I punched Belch in the nose. Not too hard to break it, only enough to stun him. Victor got a right hook to his jaw, no serious damage there either. My objective was to stun them enough to escape."
He regards her then. Jonathan seemed impressed, awed even. "Is that why you've been going to the library a lot lately? To read books that catch your fancy, learn Swedish, and study up on self-defense techniques?"
Ruth's breath stalled for a moment. "Yes," she half fibbed.
"Because of those moronic boys, right?"
"Yes," she replied.
Jonathan takes a step back, watching her. He rose an arm.
Ruth doesn't flinch but prepared herself for the hit. What she wasn't expecting was a weight landing on the top of her head. She stares at Jonathan, showing no signs of confusion or relief. He pats her.
"Well, why didn't you just say so? I can show you a few basics instead of you having to consult a book, you know. Although, you do have one damn good memory, especially when you're a straight-A student. Better than me, actually."
He cradles her head a moment longer then ruffles her hair. She doesn't move away, just lets him. If Ruth did, Jonathan would have done something then. When he removed his hand, Jonathan went back to the stove to stir dinner. Ruth steadily breathes without him looking.
"Now, how did you patch yourself up."
Well, here goes. "Despite my insistence, someone helped me."
Jonathan turned sharply, his eyes going wild. "What was that?"
"I don't know who the guy was. Just some guy passing through town. I kept telling him to back off and that I didn't need any help. He refused to listen. Well, he did save my life from getting hit by a truck."
She was about to explain that bit when Jonathan spoke over her.
"Whoa, whoa, what?" His voice pitched towards the end, and features contorted into horror.
Ruth visibly facepalmed and groaned. "Oops, I forgot to tell you that detail."
"How do you forget something like that? Oh, wait, duh! You get it from me. Now, what happened?"
"When I escaped the idiots, I ran across the street without looking."
"You dumbass! You're lucky the guy pulled you out of the way! He felt obligated to patch up your arms. I am glad to see you are okay, though. Let me a guess, he was a doctor, right?"
"Yes, he was."
Ruth had rehearsed her partial lie to the tee. She knew what had to be said to sound convincing. Besides, Jonathan won't know. Ruth needed to protect both Mike and Stan from getting hurt. Of course, she can't be too trusting of Mike yet. Lending the library book to Mike is testing waters. Stan, though, Ruth has some faith in him. He looks to be the person to observe and take a settled approach. Although she did deduce Stan having a secret crush on her. So, can she trust him enough?
Jonathan regards Ruth with a deep scowl and a heavy sigh, watching her for deceit. "Is that the truth?"
"It's the truth," she answers quickly without faltering.
"You sure? You're not lying to me to protect someone, are you?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm not lying either."
He watched her analytically, reading her body language, and deciphering her tone. Jonathan approvingly nods.
"Good girl. You know what will happen if you were, right?"
The slimy tone made Ruth inwardly cringe at the thought of him touching her. Even a chill ran down Ruth's back. Thankfully, it wasn't the cold prickle one from earlier.
"I do," she replies with a gulp.
Jonathan then smiles, showing off his white teeth. There is a devious glint in his eyes as he stared at her.
"That's my girl. Now go on to the dining room. I'll bring you dinner."
Ruth swallows, "Yes, sir."
She backs into the hall, refusing to remove her gaze off him. That smile of his is of a predator. He watched her every move like the little lamb she is. With another gulp, Ruth turned the corner and headed for the dining room. She glances over her shoulder at him, making sure he wasn't approaching. Thankfully, he wasn't. Ruth was a foot away when he called to her.
"Ruthie, darling," he silkily coos.
Ruth pauses, shuddering from the name.
She backs up and looks in on him, hiding her anxiety.
"Yes, Jonathan?"
He shook his head, his predatory grin, never leaving.
"No, you call me 'daddy,' Ruthie. I don't want to be called sir, let alone my name. I am your father, anyway."
Ruth stares, helpless. His last comment made her think differently. They barely look alike. He has dark blonde hair with maybe a tinge of red. He's more tan than her or Jordan and has no freckles. She's not going to respond to that bit of information, though. She saw him slowly reach for his belt buckle, taunting her for an answer.
"Yes, daddy," Ruth replies quickly.
His grin widens, "That's a good girl. Go on now, sit down."
"Yes, daddy," Ruth nodded and walked away.
Once she was out of sight, her eyes shut with a shudder.
The silence is tense and unnerving now. Ruth and Jonathan's little exchange earlier is far from her mind. They sat at the dinner table together. Ruth doesn't want to look at him, only her plate. Ruth ate most of her meal. She is starting to grow extremely uncomfortable with Jonathan occasionally watching her. His hungry gaze on her has Ruth on edge. She fully expects him to pounce on her any minute now. The last time they ate together like this, it was after Jonathan had pinned her to the bed several months ago.
Ruth gulps harshly when she felt his eyes on her again. She wanted to glance up at him but knew what would greet her. Instead, Ruth kept her gaze on the plate.
Please stop looking at me, she says to herself.
After a moment, his gaze leaves her and disturbs the silence.
"I got you something today. I can't say what it is, though. I left it for you on your bed."
She harshly gulps, curious yet sickened at what he could have gotten her. Ruth can hope it is something like cookies or candy. If it's another sexy item, Ruth will snap. The thought of taking one of the steak knives came to mind and just stab the son of a bitch over and over until she felt satisfied. Or maybe, gut Jonathan like the filthy swine that he is. Shoot, Ruth could prepare him like a stuffed hog ready for a luau like the Hawaiians do.
Now that will be a gratifying sight. Ruth can imagine herself standing by the firepit, rotating the skewer to roast the man to perfection. Ruth can even smell the smoky applewood with a little citrus like an orange on his cooking flesh. Ruth inwardly grins at the thought.
There was a loud bang, snapping Ruth out of her dark world.
"What do you say when your loving daddy brings you something?" Jonathan angrily questioned.
Ruth doesn't blink. She's trying to keep herself from letting a tear fall.
"Thank you, daddy."
"Thank you, and you're welcome. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
"No," she robotically responds.
"Is it anything like the cookies you left in the cabinet?" Ruth asked suddenly, stiffening.
She doesn't know why she asked him that. He did leave it for her anyway. Who else would? Jordan certainly wouldn't.
Jonathan glances up from his plate and over at Ruth. "Cookies? What cookies?"
She flinches then snaps a confused glare at him. "The chocolate chip cookies that were in the cabinet. There are in a vintage tin box."
Jonathan gaps at Ruth, brows rising. "You should know we don't keep chocolate anything around here. Your mother is allergic, and I hate chocolate chip cookies."
Ruth glares at him then, alarmed. "You, I don't understand."
"What don't you understand?"
"You didn't leave a box of cookies in the top cabinet on the bottom shelf next to the stove?"
Jonathan stares at her then as if Ruth grew a second head. "No. I didn't get you any cookies. If I did, I would have put them in your room where your mother won't get a hold of them."
Ruth began to freak. She could have sworn the box was from him.
She got up from the table and rushed to the kitchen. "I'll prove it! It should still be up there!"
"For god's sake, Ruthie! Get your crazy ass back here!" Jonathan shouts, following her.
"I'll show you!" She hollered, storming into the kitchen.
She flung the cabinet door open and stares for a long moment. Her eyes remain fixed on the shelf, and mouth gaping. The spot where the box should be is empty.
Nothing is there.
Jonathan came into the room and saw her stunned expression. He cautiously approached her, hands in front of him like a shield. Jonathan glances up at the spot Ruth was staring at upon approach. He saw nothing either.
"Where is your box of cookies you're talking about?" He questions with forced softness.
"They, they should be right here! Right here!" She points and touches the spot.
Her mind is spinning. Is she going crazy? No, Ruth can't be going crazy. The taste of every crunch of baked wheat and semi-sweet piece of chocolate lingered on her tongue. It was real! But how could they be there one day and gone the next? Maybe Jordan got them for her. Yeah, that has to be it! Jordan told her to go look for something to eat. She got them for her and took the box.
"I think you're going crazy, Ruthie," Jonathan replies in her ear.
Ruth is quick to step back. She shouldn't have done that, though. "I'm not going crazy, Jonathan!"
He glares hard at her. "Ruthie," Jonathan warns.
"Jordan! She must have gotten them for me and took back the box!"
"Alright, let's go," Jonathan says, grabbing Ruth by the arm and guides her out of the room.
"I'm not crazy! I'll ask her when she gets home!"
"You are not asking her anything! Your mother wouldn't get you cookies, let alone a package of panties! Now shut the fuck up!"
"Then, where did the cookies come from, huh? They were real, Jonathan. I can still taste them, for fuck's sake! Why won't you_?"
Ruth doesn't get to finish. Jonathan backhands Ruth right in the mouth, instantly busting her lip. Ruth's head snaps harshly to the right, almost cracking her neck. She lightly shudders with shallow breaths and tries her best not to cry. She is so confused yet furious.
"That right there was real," Jonathan seethed.
She refused to look at him. If Ruth did, she would give away the hatred and fury in her eyes.
"I don't care if you ate air or these cookies you obviously imagined. You don't need that shit anyway. It will make you fat. What am I talking about? You're skinny as a beanpole. Maybe you should fatten yourself up on these magic pastries of yours. If you talk back to me like that again, I will do a whole lot worse than backhand you. And you call me, daddy. Do you understand me?"
Ruth opens her mouth to answer only to wince. Her lip is swollen, and she can taste blood. She bit the inside of her cheek when Jonathan hit her.
When Ruth didn't respond within another second, he grabs her hair. Jonathan yanked harshly for Ruth to yelp. Her cry only gave him satisfaction. He grins, tugging harder. Ruth doesn't utter a sound this time. Instead, she clenched her teeth to keep from calling out.
His grin vanished when Ruth defied to cry. Jonathan's lips curl into a sneer.
"Bravery can go so far, Ruthie darling."
Ruth remained silent. She wanted to snip back but knew the consequences. At this point, Jonathan is her ticking time bomb. Either she will end up brutally killing him with an ordinary steak knife, or he has a freak accident at the job site. Ruth prays for a horrible death at work. The other option, herself. She can't take it much longer.
"Look at me," he demands.
With a shuddering breath, Ruth slowly regards him. Her earthy eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
"You will not talk back to me like that ever again. Are we clear?"
"Yes, daddy," Ruth responds. She stares at him, poker-faced.
"If you want to go around town, that is fine by me, but you don't talk to anyone. Rather it's Henry Bowers or some fucking looney toon doctor, you don't talk. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, daddy."
"And so help me, Amber Ruth Greyson, if I find out you lied about anything, you will be in the ground somewhere six feet under. Clear?"
Ruth gulps, "Yes, daddy."
"Good. From now on, if you want to go into town, you do your chores first. I'll leave a list of the things that need to be done. I even want to know what time you completed your tasks. I certainly don't want to spend two hours of my day cleaning this house because your useless slut mother won't touch a duster, let alone a mop. Curfew is now six o'clock, on the dot. If your ass is a minute late, I will use my thick leather belt on you. Do we have an understanding?"
Her heart jumps to her throat, "Yes, daddy."
Jonathan grins evilly. He lets go of Ruth's hair, trails his palm from the neck down to rest in between the valley of her developing swells. They are about the size of an orange. A week or so ago, they were slightly bigger than an apple. Ruth is maturing early and is terrified of growing up. All thanks to this pig.
"Getting close. You're growing up a little quicker than the other girls. Daddy is so proud."
Jonathan lightly pats her chest, then steps back, grinning.
"Magic cookies? Ha, you need to get out more often, Ruthie darling."
Ruth inwardly cringes.
"Better yet, you should make some friends. Oh, wait, that's right. You can't have any because we told everybody to keep away from you. You are nothing but valued property, baby girl. Nobody wants a good for nothing little shit like you for a friend." He laughs.
He leaves Ruth standing by her bedroom door, shuddering.
She watched him leave before turning to her bedroom. Ruth saw a small box on her bed but is not big enough to be anything provocative or boxed candy. Ruth is curious but is really not interested in finding out what it is at the moment. She silently shuts her door with a faint click following. From within her room and Jonathan out of earshot, Ruth's muffled cries break the silence.