Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Until I got to the door.
She was on the other side as I yanked it open.
Her face had been a mask of absolute horror.
Until she spotted the dog in my arms.
Then, fuck, she just fell apart.
She dropped down to the floor, her face buried in her hands, sobbing so hard that her body shook.
“Hey, darlin’, hey,” I murmured.
I sidestepped her to set down Ernest, who whined and nudged her side.
Then I pulled the door closed, got down on the floor, and pulled Rue into my arms.
Ernest stayed close, his body pressed to his owner’s as she cried into my chest.
Not just cried.
She fucking shattered.
I’d never seen anything like it.
Not only did the sobs rack her body, but she was trembling so violently that it almost felt like a seizure. Her cries were frantic, constant, loud. And the tears just soaked through my shirt in moments.
“Hey, you’re okay,” I assured her, squeezing her tighter like I could hold her together if I tried hard enough. “I’m right here,” I added when that didn’t work. That got a sad little whimper out of her. “I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her.
I shifted one arm up, still squeezing, but higher up on her shoulders so my fingers could massage the back of her neck.
That seemed to be what finally allowed her to start calming down. The sobs got quieter, less intense. Little by little the tears stopped and she was left sniffing pathetically.
She didn’t pull away, though.
She held on for several more long minutes, enough for the hard floor to make my knees start to ache.
“You found Ernest,” she sniffled.
“I did. I was driving down the street and saw him running. I had to chase him for a minute. Then the stubborn ass refused to walk back with me, so I had to carry him.”
She let out a watery laugh at that as she finally pulled away, keeping her head ducked as she turned and threw her arms around her dog.
“I’m sorry you had to run, baby,” she cooed into his wrinkly neck. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Darlin’,” I said when she pulled away from him but kept her chin to her chest. “What happened here?” I asked. Because I had to ask. Anyone would if they walked into this kind of destruction. As much as I hated lying, I couldn’t tell her I’d been watching. Not without permission from Huck, anyway.
“Someone destroyed everything,” Rue said, voice hollow.
“Were you robbed?” I asked. That seemed like an appropriate follow-up. “Did you check the register?”
“There’s no money in the register. I’d emptied it for the night already.”
That rang true.
“Were you here when this happened?”
“Not in here, no. Ernie was, though.” She sounded dangerously close to weeping again.
“He’s okay,” I assured her.
Even as I said it, the dog seemed to be trying to get back to his bed. Rue clutched him with all her might. “No, buddy. You can’t. You’ll cut your footsies.”
“How about I carry him into the kitchen?” I suggested. “I can put his bed in there and put the chair across the doorway.”
“Okay,” she agreed, seeming to start thinking more clearly. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll get his bed,” she said as I gathered up the chunky dog once again.
She seemed to need something to do, so I let her get and shake out the bed in case of shards, then put it in the kitchen for Ernest.
“Did you catch anything on your camera?” I asked, gesturing toward the front door.
“No. No, the cameras, uh, haven’t been working.”
They were off.
She turned them off.
She’d likely been forced to turn them off on delivery days.
“You didn’t see them?” I asked.
“I don’t know who did this.”
That rang mostly true. I figured because she’d been busy unloading the guns and didn’t know which of the guys had been inside wrecking her store.
“Do you want to call the police?” I asked. Again, that was what a normal, non-criminal, would ask.
“No!” It blurted out too quickly, too frantically. “No. It was probably just some stupid kids,” she said, head ducked like she didn’t want to lie to my face. “I just… I have to get the plants back in dirt before they all die.” Her voice hitched at the end of that.
“I can be an extra set of hands. I know I won’t be as good as you, but I can help.”
She sniffed hard again. When she spoke, her voice was tiny. “Okay.”
“Okay. Point me to the dirt.”
“In the seedling greenhouse. There’s a pile in the back. And there are plastic planters. I need planters.”
Her voice broke on that, likely thinking about Traeger and all his hard work.
“Hey, shit happens. Traeger won’t be mad.”
“No,” she agreed, nodding. “No, he won’t be mad. But this was so much work.” And, I imagined, money.
“Well, for the time being, you can just sell them in their plastic planters. Eventually, Traeger can get more stock going. It’s all going to be okay,” I told her, leaning down to press my forehead to the top of her head, willing her to believe it. Because I meant it. Whatever happened, I was going to make sure Rue was okay.