going to be up the mountain and wondered if Dylan had even noticed I was gone yet.
Was he looking for me?
The answer to that was no doubt a yes, but ten to one it was for this information he believed I had, not because he gave a shit about me.
Forget him, Brooke. Forget him and get your own damn king bed.
Ruth was the guardian angel I’d needed to reassure me about my decision to leave. To never again be a victim to the whims of powerful men.
Inside, Ruth built a fire in about five minutes, and I was a little bit in love with how amazing she was. "You have some mad skills, and I legitimately want to be like you when I grow up."
She waved me off. "Women are capable of amazing things, Brooke. Men underestimate us from birth, and then we fall into the really terrible habit of doing the same. I'm telling you now, there's nothing we can't do ourselves, and I promise, most of the time we'll do it better."
"I believe you," I said with a chuckle.
Ruth had moved on to organizing dinner slash breakfast now, so I jumped up from the barstool I was sitting at in front of her huge island in the kitchen. "Can I help?"
Her eyes fell to the bulge in my right pocket, eyes softening. "Would you, maybe, like a few minutes to wash up first? I'll get started with the easy part."
My hand brushed over the hard box, and I tried not to hyperventilate. Ruth, who must have moved away from the fridge without me noticing, startled me when she took my hand.
"Not knowing doesn't change the truth," she told me. "Better to have all the information so you can make a proper decision about your next move."
"My mom died," I whispered randomly, voice soft. "And I have been a mess ever since. I feel like, though, maybe she would have said the exact same thing you just did."
Feeling determined, I sucked in a deep breath and let Ruth direct me to the cozy bathroom on her first floor. When the door closed and I was alone, I forced the panicked feeling in my chest down as I crossed to the sink so I could look at this test.
The instructions were pretty clear: Pee on the end, wait a few minutes, and read the results. This was one that didn't have colored lines and instead would tell me in no uncertain terms. The word pregnant would appear if I was, and there was nothing clearer than that.
My hands shook as I sat on the toilet, but it had been a while since I’d peed, so I had no issue with going. The brochure had said the midstream was the best to hit the stick with, so I did just that, then laid it on the sink so I could wash my hands and spend the next few minutes silently having a breakdown.
As much as Ruth's advice made sense, the reality of being pregnant and homeless had me half hyperventilating with my head between my legs. Long after I knew the results would be there, I couldn't pull myself up to look. Not until a gentle knock on the door startled me.
"Everything okay in there, Brooke?" Ruth called.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I got to my feet. "Yep, yep, all good," I called out, having no idea if that was a lie or not. "I'll be right out."
"Okay, sweetheart."
My heart ached at that word, and I tried to remember that last time I'd heard any sort of motherly endearment. Ruth was breaking me in the worst way, but fuck, I couldn't regret getting in her car.
And I honestly couldn't avoid looking at the test any longer, so I stumbled to the sink, reaching for the test. Of course, just as I picked it up to try and look at the word, I heard a loud banging on the door outside. Not my door. The front damn door.
Shit. My immediate thought was that Blake had found me, but the odds of that were slim. Just in case, I slipped the test into my pocket and rushed from the room, not bothering to clean up the box or the instruction leaflet. Ruth was heading for the door now, and I noticed that she held a handgun in her right hand.
"A gun?" I hissed.
Gone was her sweet smile, and in its place was a slight smirk. "I had a feeling your man would