Absolution

by WastelandRose

"You say he'll be whatever I want, but that assumes I want him at all. I don't. He scares me and makes me feel bad about myself, and I don't want him around. But you'll only stop him from stalking me if I hang out with him of my own freewill. Because his comfort and sanity are more important than mine. Because he can kill vampires and I can't. Is that about it?"

9. Various Felonies

Chapter 9 – Various Felonies

Ruby woke up feeling both well-rested and close to dying of heat stroke, or maybe spontaneous combustion. It was an odd combination, especially recently, and the girl's groggy brain thought that she could escape from it by initiating an awkward, utterly uncoordinated flurry of flailing.

Unfortunately, she was covered in so many blankets that she might as well have been in a straightjacket, and the movement accomplished nothing but tangled limbs and a dizzying fall off the edge of the couch. After hitting the floor with a barely audible thump, thanks to the padding provided by the blankets-turned-crazy-person-restraints, Ruby managed to roll a bit and get an arm free, which she used to free the rest of her. Then, she just sprawled there in the remnants of her cocoon for a few minutes, blinking dazedly at the ceiling.

She was drenched in sweat and boiling hot, and the solution to those issues popped right into her mind: a cold shower. So, bleary eyes still more than half-closed, she stood and stumbled along to the bathroom, stripping layers as she went. By the time she was standing under the strong spray, which was more lukewarm than cold, Ruby felt a bit more alert. She had the thought that maybe the iron and B12 pills she'd been taking religiously each morning were finally working to counteract the anemia that had been making her feel frozen all the time.

Being warm was a good sign, right?

So, why was she slowly being seized by a creeping sense of… not quite dread but… unease? apprehension? the dawning certainty that something that she definitely wouldn't like was about to happen?

She tried to put it out of her mind as she got out of the shower, her skin thoroughly pruned. As she wrapped her hair and body in fluffy towels, she focused on other things, like the fact that she'd fallen asleep working on her laptop. She hadn't seen it near her when she woke, and she certainly hadn't heard or felt it break during her fall. Granny had probably moved it, and Ruby would have to thank her later.

As though thoughts of the old woman had the power to summon her attention, her voice echoed out of the kitchen. "Ru, honey," she declared, right as Ruby stepped out of the bathroom in her chic towel ensemble, "We have a guest, so make sure you're decent."

Although not particularly bothered to be seen in what was essentially a modest, unflattering strapless dress and a ridiculous turban, the girl did appreciate the heads-up. "Ok," she replied as she completed the few steps needed to go from the bathroom to her bedroom, which was directly across the hall. Once she was safely shut inside said bedroom, she noted that her laptop was indeed on top of her desk. Assured of the safety of her tech, Ruby rifled through her closet for clothes that were comfortable yet presentable.

She wondered about the guest. He or she probably wasn't Sue Clearwater or Old Quil; if either had returned to attempt to convince Ruby to cooperate with therapy—conventional or supernatural, respectively—then Granny likely would've identified the person by name. Likewise, Sam or Embry also would've been either named or called "your brother." Granny had been quick to adopt both as honorary grandsons and hadn't skipped any opportunity to invite them over and badger, annoy, and embarrass them appropriately.

Ruby wasn't sure who else might've had the balls to brave the Kayad household. Billy Black, maybe? For whatever reason, he seemed more amused than terrified by both Granny and Mom. The guest probably wasn't any other council member, unless one was substantially stupider than the rest. The girl would've been shocked if someone had already discovered and connected her to her evil plan and showed up to confront her about it.

Appropriately clothed in a nice but casual jeans-and-sweater combo, Ruby finished drying and brushing her long black hair and then headed to the kitchen.

She didn't need to worry at all about her ensemble, it turned out, because the guest was Paul.

And Paul was naked.

Well, her first startled and fearful glance had made him seem naked, but he was really just missing a shirt. In the split second before she realized that his lower body was in fact encased in denim cutoffs, Ruby had the bewildered and hysterical thought that she was going to have to burn the chair; there was no amount of bleach that would ever salvage anything touched by the cretin's bare dick, balls, or ass—let alone all three.

But surprisingly, although she was still scared of him, she wasn't as scared as she'd been in the past.

To be honest, he just seemed… kind of pathetic, slouching guiltily and trying and failing to make his massive muscled body look smaller and less threatening, squirming in a potentially contaminated chair that might as well have been child size in comparison to his bulk. He appeared torn about whether he wanted to meet her gaze or avoid it, whether to rake his eyes over every inch of her or stare ashamedly down at his own twitching fingers, which were folded politely on top of the table.

He also looked slightly… traumatized.

That was likely Granny's doing. Apparently, she couldn't be trusted not to invite stalkers home, but she could be trusted to harass them into a more manageable state.

"You're looking a lot better, sweetheart," the old woman pointed out as she bustled over from the stove and slammed a huge serving platter stacked with roasted fish and rabbit onto the little round table. "That's the good news. The bad news is that the spirits are fucking with you again."

Crossing her arms and trying very hard not to let her shoulders tense at the announcement (or at the company), Ruby stood in the doorway and demanded, "What do you mean?"

With a huff as she continued to move around the kitchen, grabbing a stack of plates and a handful of cutlery and a bowl of mashed potatoes and a small jug of gravy and bringing each to the table, Granny announced, "You were cold because you were avoiding your pet wolf, dear. It was painfully obvious to everyone but you."

"No," Ruby insisted. "I'm anemic. Dr. Olayo said so."

"You can be anemic and in pet-wolf withdrawal," argued the old woman as she took the seat at Paul's right and gestured impatiently toward the remaining seat, to her right and his left. "If anything, the latter exacerbated or even caused the former." Passing out plates and immediately starting to serve herself, Granny snapped, "Don't give me that look, girl! This is the first time in weeks I've seen you in less than three layers, and you've been keeping the house as hot as an oven! If I were still menopausal, I'd have thrown you out into the snow! Now sit and eat! I'm not discussing this on an empty stomach!"

Ruby sat, grudgingly. She really didn't like being told what to do, but Granny and Mom were counted among the few (maybe even only) people the girl would listen to and mostly obey. Scowling sullenly, she took her turn at each of the dishes and then tried not to flinch as Paul started filling his plate.

They ate in silence. And although Paul displayed surprisingly good manners, he still consumed… a lot. Even for a wolf. In fact, he seemed to be a stress eater, gobbling whatever was in arm's reach (which was pretty damn far) because he just had no idea what else to do (and because people were unlikely to ask him to speak while his mouth was full). Ruby had been a bit out of it the last time they shared a meal, but she hadn't missed the nauseating yet bizarrely mesmerizing spectacle of Paul eating the entire backend of a hog and only refraining from progressing farther forward on the animal because everyone else was finished with their own comparatively meager dinners.

Ruby was the opposite of a stress eater. A stress faster? A stress anorexic? Stress made her not want to eat, anyways, so it was difficult to choke down a respectable portion, at least enough that Granny wouldn't nag.

Eventually, the meal ended—with Paul hoovering all remaining morsels. Ruby stood and started clearing away dishes, but he immediately jumped up to help and easily managed to stack almost everything and bring it to the sink in one trip. She was left standing beside the table, dumbly holding a single plate and a single glass and debating whether she could get away with "accidentally" dropping them rather than handing them off to Paul to rinse.

Of course, Ruby knew that wouldn't fly. Granny was already staring at her sternly and expectantly. With Granny having cooked and Paul washing dishes, it was Ruby's job to dry. As a matter of principle as well as safety, she stood slightly out of his reach, close enough that he could hand her each plate and utensil he finished but far enough away that he couldn't swing at her head if he chose to do so.

She knew that no amount of distance would save her if he did decide to attack; his speed and reflexes were at least as good as Sam's, and she'd seen her half-brother casually sprint miles to the store for forgotten ingredients and return before Emily could even miss the step in her recipe. Ruby also knew that Paul was very unlikely to purposely do anything to hurt her (what with being under some wolfy magical whammy that made him obsessed with her instead), but years of wariness and fear and plain old self-preservation refused to be ignored. Plus, there was always the possibility that he (or any wolf, really) would accidentally hurt her by losing his temper or just forgetting his own ridiculous strength.

Exhibit A: Emily's face.

Paul obviously noticed said extra distance, and although he looked sad, he didn't comment on or attempt to close it. In fact, his movements were slow, steady, and blatantly telegraphed. The two teens got through washing and drying the dishes within a few tense minutes as Granny bustled around behind them, making tisane (hopefully unspiked) and setting out some cookies and fruit for dessert.

True to form, the old woman proceeded to order Paul to carry the tray of drinks and snacks into the living room. Ruby rushed to claim her preferred spot closest to the hearth (which felt quite a lot toastier than it had in a while) and huddled there hugging a pillow to her chest while Granny sat at the corner of the sofa and Paul sat on the complete opposite arm.

For a while, no one said anything. Ruby was caught between the urge to watch Paul's every move for signs of danger and the urge to not look at him ever and to utterly ignore his existence until he just went away. She had to keep reminding herself that ignoring him had never worked before and was even less likely to work now that the spirits had decided that she was prime livestock to be bred at their whims.

"So, Paul," Granny remarked between delicate nibbles of fancy little cookies, "My granddaughter happens to be in the market for an accomplice in a series of felonies-"

"Granny!" Ruby shrieked, shocked and horrified and rather betrayed.

Paul sort of froze and choked on nothing all at once, wide-eyed in confusion and alarm.

Unrepentant, the old woman just drawled, "Dear, your crime spree isn't going to be a long one if you keep falling asleep with your dastardly plans open on your laptop."

Ruby blushed so hard that her cheeks actually stung, even as she glowered and responded, "I thought they'd be safe from someone who still can't work the microwave!" It was true that Granny was a massive snoop, and Ruby had long since resigned herself to the fact that the woman rifled through the entirety of Ruby's room each time she stayed in it. But the girl had believed that at least her tech was inaccessible! Fortunately, if Granny hadn't completely flipped out yet, she probably hadn't seen much.

With a dismissive shrug, the old woman replied, "Popcorn is far better from the stovetop, anyways. That bagged shit is barely edible, and the latest studies are saying it can cause cancer and MS-like symptoms." She sipped her drink and nibbled another cookie before continuing, "Relax, honey. It's not like I'm trying to stop you. Your grandfather and I weren't exactly the most law-abiding citizens. Did I ever tell you about the time we robbed a casino?" She got a starry, far-away look in her eyes, a look reserved for when she was fondly reminiscing about her deceased husband. "That was some honeymoon. We never could risk going back to Vegas, but it was entirely worth the trouble."

Ruby groaned and hid her face in the pillow. Grandpa had been adamant that because pale faces stole the Natives' land, stealing from pale faces wasn't a crime as long as Natives were doing it. And, yes, he had once successfully used said genius logic to sway a jury of twelve morons—a completely different set of twelve morons from the "If I'd wanted to hit him, I would've hit him" case, when he'd been on trial for shooting at but not actually shooting a man who'd gotten fresh with Granny in a bar.

(Grandpa had been notorious for committing and miraculously getting away with outrageous crimes.)

(Allegedly.)

"You've got a nice blackmail file going," Granny complimented, nodding sagely and maybe just a bit proudly, "But I think you'll need some muscle to really get your point across." She gestured at Paul, who was still rigid and alarmed. "That's where this one comes in. And as long as he's trying to get in your panties-"

"Oh my god! Stop talking!" Ruby screamed into the pillow.

"-he won't turn you in or sell you out if you get caught," Granny continued, completely unbothered. "In fact, he's unlikely to crack under interrogation. That's an attractive feature in an accomplice."

"Except for the part where the entire wolf pack knows everything he knows!" Ruby pointed out, progressing from mortified to supremely annoyed as she finally picked her head up and glared. "He is literally incapable of keeping a secret!"

Apparently somewhat over his shock and unhappy with being discussed while he was in the room, Paul coughed and then murmured, "Uh, Sam's been outside this whole time, so he kinda just heard everything." The shifter cocked his head as though listening to sounds that the rest of them couldn't hear (which was probably exactly what he was doing) and added, "He says if someone is bothering you, he'll take care of it."

Ruby sighed. Of course he would. That was why she hadn't told him. Well, that was why she hadn't told him in the beginning. It was supposed to be her epic revenge, not his or anyone else's. Now, after everything she'd found via just a few weeks of bugging and hacking most of the residents of La Push and Forks (who really needed to learn to secure their networks and devices and not open suspicious emails), she wasn't sure if she should tell him.

She'd gone looking for life-ruining, soul-destroying, shameful, humiliating, deep, dark dirt. She'd found plenty and more.

If Ruby told Sam about the more, he might actually go berserk and murder some council members.

Then again, he and Emily had a right to know. And the offending council members had it coming.

Most of the people who were at the heart of spreading gossip about Ruby were the same ones who'd fucked over Sam and Emily. And to be honest, even though Sam and Emily had no idea it had happened, said fucking over was by far worse than the Ruby-related gossip. Now that she knew what had been done to her half-brother and his special someone, the teen felt rather petty about hoarding all the revenge for herself.

Plus, Sam and Emily were far less likely to be upset and disapproving about Ruby's nuclear option if she fully justified it ahead of time. And as far as retribution went, siccing a werewolf on people had to earn extra points.

"I'm not ready to present my findings," she declared, glaring at Granny as though daring the old nuisance to keep pushing. "I'll have a PowerPoint ready by tomorrow night. Sam and Emily and Chief Billy should come see it."

Instead of arguing, Granny smirked like she'd just won a great victory.

And Ruby realized that she'd been played.

"Excellent," crowed the old nuisance, flapping a hand at Paul. "You can take care of the invites, and I'll take care of the food. Actually, you can show up early and help me take care of the food. I'd congratulate you on not being useless in the kitchen, but basic life skills don't deserve praise."

The girl's stalker nodded frantically (almost happily), and she pouted and sulked and glowered until he slunk off (reluctantly but eagerly, shooting longing glances at Ruby but watching Granny with wary respect that dipped into awe and fear).

And Ruby spent the rest of the night pretending that she didn't finally feel normal (warm and relaxed and not aching right down to her marrow and soul) for the first time in months.

xxXxx

"You're a lifesaver," Isaac gushed, his voice muffled as he focused on securing his younger son's car seat in the back of Jezebel. "I can't thank you enough."

Standing outside the massive beast and bouncing adorable little Jonah on her hip, Ruby laughed, "It's no trouble. We're gonna have fun. Right, J?"

"Yep!" the munchkin agreed, flashing a toothy grin and clinging to her and his teddy bear with equal fervor. "I get to see Ruby's house! And I don't gotta play with Mrs. Kalit's stinky cats!"

Isaac rolled his eyes and attempted to smother a laugh even as he scolded, "Be nice. You know she loves having you over."

The she in question was Cynthia Kalit, who was close to ninety years old and had never turned away a stray. Fortunately, she was a responsible cat hoarder. She kept her house spotlessly clean and had long since made a deal with the nearest vet for discount spaying and neutering for all her fur babies. Plus, she happily babysat most of the local kids free of charge, just with the ulterior motive of trying to convince those kids to convince their parents to adopt any felines the kids bonded with. She was surprisingly successful and thus kept her horde at a manageable level.

Luckily, Jonah was very much a dog person.

And as much as Ruby no longer felt willing to admit it to anyone alive or dead, she was, too.

On that particular day, however, Mrs. Kalit was unavailable, driving her newest batch of rescues in for health checks and sterilization.

Isaac had forgotten about said scheduling blip and had scrambled for someone who could watch Jonah while the man met with reps from several local galleries that were interested in possibly displaying some of his work.

Ruby had jumped at the opportunity. Jonah was still her favorite person, and getting to hang out with him was always a treat; on a day when mood-lifting distractions were needed, Jonah time was practically required for her mental and emotional health.

"All set," announced Isaac, hopping out of the van and offering a fond grin. "I would've dropped him off, you know."

Unwilling to revisit the embarrassment of squealing out a yes into the phone and then running for her vehicle practically the second she was asked to babysit, Ruby just shrugged. "This gives you extra time to get ready without having him underfoot," she argued, making a show of arching an eyebrow and looking over the man's ubiquitous sawdust-and-wood-stain-covered threadbare-T-shirt-and-ripped-jeans combo. "You're not wearing that, are you?"

With a loud scoff that made Jonah giggle, Isaac pouted, "No. Tammy picked an outfit for me before she left."

"Then I'm sure you'll do great," Ruby soothed, tickling Jonah and playfully challenging, "Right?"

"Right!" the little boy agreed, flashing a brilliant smile. "You'll be pretty if you listen to Mommy."

And with that sage advice bestowed, the pair loaded up and set off. Ruby drove slowly, both for safety and because Jonah was marveling at and babbling about the interior of her van. After they arrived at the Kayad household and parked in her usual spot, she popped the roof for him, and they spent a good half-hour playing in the small upper cabin, pretending to be pirates looking out the portholes of their ship. That was followed by a short nap in said cozy cabin (which Ruby had sorely needed after working through nearly the whole night), and then they finally ventured out in search of other entertainment.

Well, first, Ruby let them in through the back of the house and took Jonah right to the toilet, where he happily did his business and then bragged about what a big boy he was because he could use the potty by himself (with only the help of the cute little fold-up stepstool included in the kid-size duffel bag his dad had stocked and sent along with him).

Ruby solemnly agreed, informing the adorable boy that mastering the potty was the first and probably most important step toward being a grown-up. He seemed to strut a bit after that, chest puffed out and head held high, teddy bear tucked under his arm.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" she offered. "Or help me bake something?" Granny was gone hunting and would cook whatever she brought home, and Ruby had harvested a ton of potatoes in the fall and still had some cold-tolerant veggies growing in her garden. So, that was a main course, a side dish, and maybe a salad accounted for. The only course left was a nice dessert. Store-bought cookies wouldn't cut it; Sam and Emily deserved more consideration, and Ruby supposed that Billy did, too, if only because he was chief of the tribe. (Although wasn't he diabetic? Perhaps a sugar-free option…)

Besides, kids liked helping in the kitchen. Ruby had fond memories of cooking with Granny… up until the old woman had decided that it was high time her granddaughter learned how to gut and skin animal carcasses. Ruby had been about six and had sobbed silently through the entire ordeal and every time she was given the job to do on her own for several years after. It was fine though. She eventually got over her silly squeamishness, with top-notch knife skills to show for the effort.

Regardless, baking had far less potential for traumatizing fragile young minds.

"Can we make cupcakes?" Jonah wondered eagerly, skipping along at her side while she poked through the cupboards to ensure that she had the right ingredients in the right (i.e., massive) quantities.

"Sure," Ruby agreed, "But I think we have to go to the store." Processed white sugar (regular or powdered) wasn't something she kept in large amounts, and frosting generally required a lot of it as well as a lot of butter. Plus, sprinkles were a must, and she definitely didn't have any of those lying around. Oh, and they'd need those little paper things for inside the tins…

"Yay!" Jonah declared, jumping up and down and clapping in celebration of the baking project, the errand, or both.

After spending a few minutes scrolling the internet for fun recipes and deciding on a few, the pair were back in their snow boots and parkas and buckled into the van, carefully navigating the muddy, slushy roads and the thick fog that had decided to roll in from the ocean. It wasn't the worst weather the rez had seen lately but certainly far from the best and an annoyance either way. Once again, Ruby congratulated her past self on purchasing a raised vehicle. The oversized tires might end up costing a lot to replace when the time came, but they were worth every penny.

The rez's small general store was a familiar sight, even to Ruby, who didn't particularly like shopping there. The locals were used to the weather and thus undeterred by it. In fact, the small lot seemed unusually full.

Great.

Well, she'd just have to power through. She wasn't about to deny Jonah cupcakes or drag him all the way out to Forks for grocery shopping; that would've been ridiculous even on a sunny day (of which there were precious few in the area).

Shopping with a young child was a new experience. Usually, Ruby kept her head down and grabbed her stuff and paid and left as quickly as possible. But with Jonah clinging to her hand and being so conspicuously cute and endlessly curious, there were a lot of stares and side-trips. She let him tow her around the entire small store twice and then nearly a third time when he changed his mind about what color sprinkles he wanted. (Ruby just ended up grabbing both the blue-sugar ones and the rainbow-confetti ones; she also snuck in the surprising find of cotton candy flavoring.)

"We're making cupcakes," Jonah bragged to anyone who glanced their way, including the two people ahead of them in the checkout line and then eventually the clerk as well.

"Are you?" wondered the clerk, who also happened to be the owner, Joy Ateara, a handsome older woman with a perpetually messy bun of thick black hair and chunky but stylish green glasses perched on the end of her nose. At Jonah's delighted nod, she declared, "Well, that's very exciting. I'm sure they'll be delicious."

Jonah nodded, smile wide and bright.

"Don't forget the secret ingredient," she whispered, leaning in close as though imparting great and mysterious wisdom. When Jonah also leaned forward, eager to hear it, she winked and proclaimed, "Love, of course. Food is always better when it's made with love."

Again, Jonah nodded, though he seemed to have turned solemn and shy, clinging to Ruby's leg as he mumbled an agreement. Maybe he'd realized that everyone within earshot was staring at him and cooing over his cuteness.

Fortunately for him, Ruby swiftly paid and gathered their bags, and within just a minute or two, she and her gallant little helper, who'd insisted on carrying some of the haul, were on their way out.

One second, Ruby was looking down to ensure that Jonah's bag, the smallest and lightest of the bunch, wasn't too much for the four-year-old. The next second, the chime on the door had her looking up to avoid whoever had walked through and being met with a gun in her face.

If she'd been alone in such a situation, she almost certainly would've frozen or backed away. But in the moment, even before she briefly but futilely hoped that the sight wasn't real, was just a fucked-up glimpse of a ghost of a robber committing a robbery long past, Ruby shuffled forward half a step and then sideways, ensuring that Jonah was firmly behind her.

"Everybody!" the masked moron shouted, giving away his age with the pathetic crack in his voice to go with his gangly and almost skeletal physique. "Down on the floor!"

There were gasps and screams, but all the patrons complied, though Ruby did so slowly, not taking her eyes off the weapon as she kept her body between Jonah and the gun.

Nothing else mattered.

Squashed beneath her on the faded linoleum, the little boy clutched at her chest and whimpered, and she wrapped him up tightly in her arms, doing her best to ensure that no part of him was exposed to possible gunfire. Ruby's mind spiraled in dazed panic at the thought that maybe she wouldn't be enough of a shield, that bullets were known to pass completely through bodies much thicker than her own.

There was the trite "Empty the register, bitch!" nonsense, with which Joy complied. She'd been robbed numerous times over the years and definitely looked more annoyed than afraid, even with a gun pointed at her by an obviously unstable maniac.

As the scant minutes stretched on like interminable hours, Ruby did her best to shuffle out of the way of the exit, her urgent need to move warring with the possibility that drawing attention might be deadly. However, Jonah grew more and more upset with the shouting and threats of violence, and his whimpers became wails and sobs that he failed to entirely smother against her chest.

The masked moron, almost certainly a tweaker, clumsily brandished his gun at them and shrieked, "Shut that brat up! I'll pop a cap-"

"Hey!" Joy snapped, whipping a roll of pennies at his skinny shoulder and glaring heatedly as the explosion of change tinkled all over the counter and floor. "Take the money and get out!" she demanded of the stunned thief. "You're in enough trouble as it is without actually hurting anyone! And if you don't quit threatening that baby, I'm gonna jump across this counter and deal with you myself! Don't think I won't, TJ!" When the newly named individual began spluttering in denial, she added, "You've been coming to this store since you were in diapers, boy! Did you really think no one would recognize your voice? If you didn't want to get caught, then maybe you shouldn't have robbed people from your own tribe!" Not waiting for a response, Joy held out a meager wad of bills, maybe a few hundred bucks at most (depending on the combination of denominations), and repeated, "Take it and go! And enjoy your last few hours of freedom!"

Stunned and shaking, whether from being threatened or being identified or being high or being not high enough, TJ (allegedly) hesitated briefly before snatching the cash and stuffing it into his pocket. He seemed to flounder for a moment before rallying, drawing himself up to look big and tough (which he really wasn't) and pointing the gun at Joy once more as he demanded, "Shut up, bitch! And open the safe!"

"There's no safe," she scoffed. "You think I can afford a safe with jackasses like you stealing from me?"

Joy was an absolute legend.

And absolutely going to get herself actually shot someday.

Hopefully not that day.

"Open the safe!" the thief shouted again, growing increasingly erratic. TJ (allegedly) seemed to be borrowing his lines and overall plan straight from some random crime drama; Ruby vaguely remembered a TJ from school, a pimpled teenager who tried too hard too fit in and always caved to peer pressure, but she couldn't recall whether he was older or younger than she was.

She tried to ignore his tantrum, tried to focus instead on continuing to move slowly into the dubious cover of one of the aisles. She was most of the way to her goal before she realized that her clothes were soaked, that she and Jonah had dropped the groceries and made a huge sticky mess of milk and sugar and other assorted edible goop in the entryway. She had no recollection of dropping anything, let alone dropping it hard enough to break. But that wasn't important.

After a few more futile rounds of arguing about the existence versus nonexistence of a store safe, the thief decided to give up and flee with his ill-gotten gains and ran right through the slick puddle. His feet slid out from under him quite comically, leaving his emaciated body briefly airborne and almost completely horizontal before it slammed down hard with a crack that, if Ruby had to guess, came from a bone in his ribs or shoulder.

She never would've made the mistake of laughing at him, even as he groaned miserably and started flopping and slipping around in the assorted goop while trying and repeatedly failing to pull himself up, but it was close. Still, the situation didn't allow for humor, especially when the thief flopped and slipped closer to her as she cowered, when he caught sight of her and redirected his embarrassment and frustration and pain.

"BITCH!" he bellowed, once again jabbing the gun into her face, near enough that the view straight down the barrel made her eyes cross and her mind utterly blank out on everything else, near enough that when his next attempt at getting up also failed, the resulting flail brought the barrel down hard against her cheek in a classic pistol-whipping motion.

From the way the thief froze in horror and then actually scrambled away, Ruby was pretty sure it had been an accident. Then again, regardless of whether or not it had been an accident, the little moron had just added assault to his armed robbery and thus probably at least a decade to his prison sentence. The hot slide of blood on her skin was unmistakable, but she had no idea of the extent of the injury. It didn't hurt, not in the moment and not when it happened. She remained very much numbed by adrenaline and shock.

With a bit more slapstick slipping and sliding, TJ (allegedly) finally managed to get to his feet and run like hell. The ding of the bell above the door as it slammed open and closed heralded the end of the nerve-wracking episode.

Time dilation did its thing, and what felt like a blink later, Ruby was sitting up. Joy was crouched beside her and holding a rag to the teen's face and speaking soothingly to both her and Jonah.

Jonah.

Ruby's arms tightened around the distressed little boy as he continued wailing into her chest. She'd kept him safe (barely) but also let him be traumatized. Guilt overwhelmed her, along with certainty that she should've done… something… something more… something different… anything that wouldn't have landed them where they were.

xxxxxxxxxx

It's kind of a short chapter, but I was stuck for a while and only recently had a light bulb moment as several unconnected plot points finally came together. Yay. (My process is weird. Don't judge.) What did you think? Any guesses for what Ruby's hacking uncovered and how the others will react? Will she let Paul become her accomplice/minion in the revenge to follow? What's the deal with TJ (allegedly)? Will I actually get around to writing Jonah's birthday party in the next chapter? Stay tuned…

Anyone interested in other Twilight stories from me? I have a few I could start posting. They're definitely a lot funnier and less serious than this one.