Page 53 of Made For Ruin

Ruby waggles her eyebrows suggestively and I feel my cheeks flush. She’s not wrong. Those pillowcases would look incredibleagainst the dark wood of Marcus’s headboard. I can practically feel the smooth silk beneath my skin already, cool and inviting after a long day.

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me,” I relent with a laugh, taking the pillowcases from her and draping them over the growing pile of items in our cart. “But if Marcus has a heart attack when he sees the credit card bill, I’m blaming you.”

Ruby scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Please, that man is so gone for you, he’d buy out this entire store if you asked him to.”

I can’t help but smile at that, warmth blooming in my chest. It’s true. Marcus has made it abundantly clear that he wants me to feel completely at home in his space. Our space. And little by little, I’m starting to get there.

As we continue to wind our way through the store, I let myself get lost in the thrill of it all. The plush throw rugs and cozy knit blankets. The glimmering copper cookware and artfully crafted serving dishes. Each item feels like a small piece of a puzzle, slowly but surely coming together to create a picture of the life Marcus and I are building.

By the time we reach the checkout counter, our cart is piled high with treasures. The total on the register makes my stomach drop for a moment, but I swallow back the anxiety and hand over Marcus’s credit card with a smile.

Ruby helps me load the bags into my car, and as we slide into our seats, she turns to me with a curious expression.

“So, be honest. How does it feel to be living with your very own mountain man? Do you feel at home yet?”

I pause, considering the question. “I’m getting there,” I admit. “It’s a big adjustment, but Marcus makes it easy. He’s so thoughtful, always going out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable.”

I fiddle with the hem of my shirt, a flicker of guilt sparking in my chest. “I do miss you though. And Spike.”

“Stop that right now.” Ruby squeezes my arm. “We’re fine. Spike’s living his best life. He’s even claimed your old reading nook as his new basking spot. Plus, he’s a better roommate than my last three dates combined.”

I wince. “That bad?”

“Worse.” She rolls her eyes. “The latest one showed up wearing cargo shorts and started mansplaining tattoo art to me. In my own shop.”

“No.”

“Oh yes. Then he tried to convince me that his badly drawn tribal design was ‘deeply meaningful’ and that I just ‘didn’t understand art. At least Spike appreciates my artistic vision. And he doesn’t text me at 2 AM asking if I want to ‘hang out.’”

I shake my head in disbelief as Ruby recounts her latest dating disaster. “I don’t know how you put up with it. I’d have kicked him out the second he started mansplaining.”

“Oh, believe me, I was tempted.” Ruby laughs. “But then I remembered I have a business to run. Can’t exactly go around assaulting potential clients, no matter how much they might deserve it.”

We chat and laugh as I navigate the busy streets and before long, I’m pulling up in front of Ruby’s tattoo shop. The storefront is painted a glossy black, with Ruby’s distinctive scrolling logo emblazoned over the door in metallic gold leaf. Large plate glass windows offer a glimpse inside the studio, where Ruby’s artwork covers nearly every available surface.

I put the car in park and turn to face Ruby. “Thanks again for today. I really needed this.”

“Anytime, babe.” Ruby reaches over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You know I’m always here for you.” Her green eyes sparkle with affection as she gathers up her purseand shopping bags. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? And tell that mountain man of yours I expect an invite to dinner soon. I need to make sure he’s treating my girl right.”

“I will, I promise.” I lean over to hug her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her jasmine perfume. “Love you, girlie.”

“Love you too. Now go on, get out of here. Go play house with your sexy lumberjack.” She winks at me as she slides out of the car, her vibrant hair gleaming under the autumn sun.

I’m just pulling away from the curb when my phone starts buzzing in the cupholder. I glance down at the screen, expecting to see Marcus’s name, but it’s an unknown number. Frowning, I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, kiddo.”

My heart stops.

“Derrick?” I grip the phone tighter, moving further from Ruby. “How are you calling me right now? This isn’t the prison number.”

“That’s because I’m not in prison anymore.” Music pulses in the background, mixed with the clink of bottles and bursts of male laughter. “I did a favor for a friend. He got out early on good behavior,” Derrick says, his voice nearly drowned out by the raucous noise in the background. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

I pull over to the side of the road, my hands shaking as I put the car in park. “That’s one word for it.”

A thousand emotions swirl through me at once. Shock, disbelief, a flicker of cautious joy. It’s been three long years since I’ve seen my brother outside of a prison visitation room. Three years of collect calls and carefully censored letters, of missing him so much it feels like a physical ache.

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