come looking for you, Brooke. You're not someone that he'd let go easily. My feeling was that you should have the choice to leave with him or not, and this gun gives us that choice."
Well, fuck. Could you fall in love with a sixty-year-old woman? Was that, like, a thing? I mean, in a purely platonic sense.
"Okay, well let’s see who is banging so loudly," Ruth said, stepping up to open her door. I noted the way she angled herself so her gun wasn't visible but she could use it if necessary.
When she pulled the white door open, Dylan was framed there, and for the first time, Ruth's house seemed small.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
Dylan's nostrils flared, his full lips thinning as those icy green eyes moved past her to lock on me. His gaze ran over me like he was checking for injuries, and I resisted the urge to put my hand in my pocket to clutch the pee stick. Not like Dylan had X-ray vision to see it there, but it was making me nervous nonetheless.
He didn't need to say anything for me to cringe. His every furious thought was painted across his face in black and white, and I shot a nervous glance at Ruth. She still had a gun, and if she thought Dylan meant to hurt me...
Dylan was smarter than that, though. He'd already recognized that Ruth could pose a threat and softened his body language dramatically as he shifted his attention to her.
"I apologize for turning up on your doorstep like this, ma'am." His smile was that slick, perfectly fake one from all his Forbes articles. "I've been looking everywhere for my girlfriend; I'm so glad you're taking such good care of her."
Ruth wasn't fooled. Fuck, I loved her. "Nice try," she replied with a deadpan glare. "I'm gonna ask you to wait outside while I chat with Brooke."
My eyes widened at her iron-clad lady balls, and a flicker of anger and frustration passed over Dylan's face before it was quickly wiped away.
"Ma'am, I think it's best if Brooke comes with me. She hasn't been well and—"
"I said"—Ruth cut him off with a cold voice, shifting her body so her gun was now visible to him—"wait outside, son. I won't repeat myself."
Dylan's eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, then shot me a somewhat pleading look. Fuck that, though. He was more than likely here just to drag me back to Delta for questioning. Not a single inch of me believed he'd stood up for me against his friends—against Riley—and why the fuck should he? All he knew about me was that I'd lied—I'd lied and I was a victim of my brother's abuse, but even there it was only my word. Given how I hadn't proven myself all that trustworthy, maybe he didn't even believe me on that.
After a tense moment of staring, Dylan reluctantly stepped back, and Ruth swiftly closed the door in his face. She flipped her dead bolt for good measure, then turned to me with a gentle smile on her face.
"What was the result?" she whispered, giving me a meaningful look, and my hand went to my pocket.
"I-I didn't even look," I admitted, feeling so much like the mouse Dylan had accused me of being. Swallowing hard, I pulled the pee stick from my pocket and peered down at it.
Then frowned.
"Well?" Ruth prompted, seeming almost as anxious as I was. Okay, not even close, but she was invested, nonetheless.
I shook my head. "It's... it doesn't say anything, just a little flashing symbol in the corner. But the box said it should say the word. You know, the word." Holy hell I couldn't even say it out loud. Pregnant, Brooklyn. It should say pregnant.
Ruth held out her hand for the stick, and I handed it over. She didn't flinch at touching it, just scowled down at the digital display and sighed.
"Error code," she told me. "Either it was a faulty test or it wasn't flat enough to read the result. You'll need to take another test."
My shoulders sagged and tears choked my throat. Talk about an anticlimax.
Ruth gave me a quick, sympathetic hug and back pat. "What do you wanna do about that tall drink of water on the porch, girl? I don't care how handsome he is, I'll shoot him right out into the snow if he hurt you."
I grinned at the mental image that conjured, but instantly a flash of guilt hit me. Dylan had tracked