Chapter 6

Chapter Six

P ope

The late afternoon sun bathes the construction site in a golden glow, casting long shadows across the skeletal frame of the library. Everything around me smells like fresh lumber, sawdust, and a little sweat—just the way I like it. It's peaceful here, the rhythm of hammering and cutting steady and predictable. It's the kind of place where my mind can quiet down, where I can drown out the world. But today, something's off.

Ruby steps onto the site, her silhouette cutting through the light. She's quieter than usual, her shoulders hunched, her usual fire dimmed. I can see it immediately—she's not herself. She barely glances at me as she walks by, clutching that damn notebook like it's some kind of shield. My hands still on the beam I'm working on, muscles tensing as I try to figure out what's going on.

Normally, we've got a rhythm. She challenges me, I push back. It's become part of the routine. But today, the air feels heavier, the tension different. I don't like it.

I call out to her, my voice rougher than intended. "Ruby, what's going on with you?"

She doesn't even look at me. Just keeps her head down and her hand tightens on that notebook. "It's nothing," she murmurs. Her voice is shaky. It's not like her. Not at all. I'm not buying it. Not for a second.

"Bullshit," I growl, stepping closer. My eyes search her face, but she won't meet my gaze. "You gonna keep pushing me away, or are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

She stiffens at my tone, her body closing off even more. "I said, it's nothing, Pope. Just… drop it, okay?"

Drop it? Hell, no. I've never been good with letting things slide, especially when something's eating away at her like this. She's pulling away, slipping through my fingers, and it's like watching someone drown and being told to stand still. I can't do that. I won't.

For days, I've watched her retreat, making excuses to avoid spending time with me. Every time I try to talk to her, she dodges the conversation. It's driving me insane.

So when she shows up today, looking even more shaken than usual, my frustration boils over. I yank her aside, the workday forgotten, my concern for her punching through everything else. I don't care about the library or the damn beams right now. I care about her.

"Ruby, if something's wrong, you need to tell me," I growl, my voice coming out harsher than I mean. I'm angry, but it's not at her—it's at whatever the hell is doing this to her.

She hesitates, her grip tightening on that notebook again. Her knuckles go white, and I can see the battle playing out behind her eyes. Finally, after a long, tense silence, she speaks.

"It's him," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "He's back."

The words hit me like a freight train. Him. The ex. The one who screwed her up so badly she's built these walls. The one responsible for the scars she tries so hard to hide behind that brave face. A flash of red runs through my vision, anger rising fast and sharp. I don't know the guy, but I already hate him with a fire that surprises even me.

My fists clench at my sides, jaw tightening as I try to control the rage boiling in my gut. I want to find the bastard and make him pay for whatever he's done to her. No one hurts Ruby. Not while I'm around. But I know better than to lose it here, to let that kind of fury take over. Ruby doesn't need that—not from me.

I take a breath, trying to rein in the anger. But it's hard. All I want to do is tear that guy apart, limb from limb. Instead, I step forward, my voice low and dangerous. "You don't have to handle this alone," I growl, each word heavy. "I'm not gonna let that asshole hurt you again."

Ruby looks up at me, her eyes wide with something that stops me cold. It's not just fear of the ex. It's fear of me—of the intensity in my voice, of the situation spiraling out of control. She takes a step back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively, like she's trying to shield herself from whatever's coming next.

"Pope, please… don't," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I don't need you getting involved. I can handle this."

But I can see the lie in her eyes. She's scared, and the thought of her facing this alone makes my blood boil even hotter. "Ruby, you don't have to handle this alone," I repeat, softer this time, though the edge in my voice is still there. "I'm not gonna let him?—"

"You don't understand," she cuts me off, her voice cracking. "This… this is exactly how it started with him. All that protectiveness, the intensity. It felt like safety at first, but then it turned into something else. Something controlling."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I never imagined Ruby would see me that way. The idea that she's afraid I'll become like him—like her ex—is almost enough to knock the wind out of me. I take a step back, stunned. She's afraid that history's repeating itself, that my need to protect her is going to turn into the same kind of control her ex wielded over her.

Damn it. I've been walking a fine line without even realizing it. On one hand, I want to tear the guy apart for what he's done to Ruby. On the other hand, I know if I push too hard, I might lose her—might scare her off completely. She's already on edge, already pulling away. One wrong move, and I'll be the reason she shuts down for good.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to soften. I can't come at this the way I want to—full throttle, fists swinging. Ruby doesn't need that. She needs control over her own life, her own choices. I can't be another guy who tries to take that from her.

"I'm not him," I say again, my voice gentler now, quieter. "I know you've been through hell, but I'm not that guy, Ruby. I'm not gonna push you, and I'm damn sure not gonna control you."

I take another step back, giving her the space she clearly needs, even though every fiber of my being is screaming to pull her close, to protect her from whatever storm her ex is bringing. "But I'm here," I add, locking my gaze on hers. "I'll always be here. You need anything, you let me know. We'll handle it together—your way."

She stares at me, relief flickering across her features, but there's still that shadow in her eyes, that wariness that hasn't gone away. She nods, barely, and whispers, "Thank you." Her voice is soft, so soft I almost don't hear it, but it's there.

I watch her closely, my chest tight with the weight of everything unsaid between us. I want to do more, to fix everything, but I know this isn't something that can be solved with brute strength or quick fixes. This is deeper, more delicate. So I'll wait. For her.

As Ruby walks away, my mind races. I know this fight with her ex isn't over—it's just beginning. And as much as she might not want me involved, there's no way I'm standing on the sidelines for this one. My protective instincts are too strong, too ingrained. I'll give her space, sure. But I'm not letting her face this alone.

Not now. Not ever.