Chapter Eleven

GUNNER

S tanding on Rue's front porch, I rub the back of my neck, wondering what the fuck I'm doing. After the way she ran from us last night, I doubt she wants to see any of us again, and yet I can't just turn away.

We made a date to go shopping, and she wanted to learn how to cook. She didn't cancel, which means she still wants to go on the date. Right?

At least that's what Jameson convinced me of before he shoved me out the door. When I look over at the mansion, I swear I can see Jameson in the office, wearing an exasperated expression on his face as he points emphatically toward her front door.

With a grunt, I turn toward the house and knock before I can second-guess myself anymore. Wait, thanks to Hicks' stupid rule, this isn't a real date, and I can't help feeling grumpy that the decision was made after I already asked her out.

Oh, I know he's right, but it's hard to mask my disappointment.

When the door slowly cracks open, I snap to attention, excitement surging through my veins at being able to see her again. It's all I can do not to smile like an idiot…only for my smile to fall when I catch a glimpse of her through the crack in the door.

"Gunner?" She blinks in surprise and opens the door farther. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Nah, everything is fine." I shuffle my feet awkwardly, cursing that I let Jameson talk me into coming over here in the first place. "You didn't call to cancel our plans, so I thought you still wanted to go shopping."

Her eyes widen, then she blinks and looks down at her outfit. It's the cutest little pajama set, and she looks adorable in the tank top, fuzzy pants, and even fuzzier slippers. Her hair is a little tangled, and her face is clean of makeup, her rumpled appearance making her look like she just rolled out of bed.

She is absolutely stunning.

A tiny smile curls my lips at the adorable image, then I frown when I notice she's covered in even more bruises than were visible yesterday, and I can't help but wonder how much more is hidden under her clothing. I curl my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her, then I tuck them behind my back when that doesn't seem to help.

"Oh, um…I didn't think you would come. Honestly, I thought I scared you off." She flashes me a rueful smile, vulnerability entering her shimmering teal eyes as she fiddles with the strings of her pants. "If you still want to go, I could get changed?"

Maybe I should let her off the hook, but now that I'm face-to-face with her, I can't let her go, even if I have to steal and cheat to spend time with her. I forgot how beautiful she was, thought I'd imagined it, but if anything, she's even more stunning.

Just breathing the same air as her is calming, and all my doubts melt away. "I would love to take you shopping. I can wait out here until you're ready."

There's no fucking way I'm going to offer to come back and give her a chance to change her mind.

She scowls, popping her head out the door, then shakes her head. "No, that's unacceptable." Just when my spirits fall, she grabs my arm, drags me inside, then slams the door shut. She purses her lips as she looks around the kitchen, then prods me toward the kitchen table. "Sit. I'll be right back."

She takes a few steps away, holding her hands out to make sure I stay, before spinning on her heels and charging up the stairs. She's so light on her feet, I can barely hear her move through the house.

A smile plays on my lips, a hum of happiness leaving me almost giddy. The kitchen is almost as familiar to me as my own…not that Mrs. Killaghan cooks often, but she is a master at reheating takeout. She has a special knack for knowing whenever any of us are upset and prepares the best tea and cookies.

Shifting in my chair, I spy a book resting on the table— How to Navigate the Afterlife . Alarm sparks through me at the thought of anything happening to either woman. I drag the book closer and hunch over the pages, searching for clues about the owner.

I nearly sag in relief when I realize it's a journal of some type. Pawing through it, I scan the pages, a furrow appearing between my brows at the mention of spirits and ghosts and how to deal with the dead.

More confused than ever, I pull the book closer. Mrs. Killaghan is kooky, but I didn't think she was crazy. The book is old, the pages brittle, the writing almost too faded to read.

It's a diary.

I desperately want to slip the book into my pocket and smuggle it to Ellis to study. The pages are worn, well-loved, and obviously highly treasured. Rue would immediately discover it was missing and figure out I had stolen it.

As much as I desperately want to understand Rue better, I can't risk pissing her off. I suspect if she discovered me even looking at the book, she would not be happy. Maybe I should respect her privacy, but the need to know more about her is hard to be denied.

I flip back toward the beginning of the book and scan the pages. The journal belongs to a twenty-year-old woman who lived over a hundred years ago. She talks about her ability to see spirits and her slow slide into insanity.

Each page of her struggle is more heartbreaking than the last. Flipping to the end of the book, I discover that she was committed and died in a sanitarium before she turned twenty-three. Wanting to know what the hell happened, I flip back to the beginning, only to slam the book shut when I hear light steps on the stairs.

I shove the book across the table, cursing when it almost slides off the edge. I lunge forward, fumbling not to knock over the table, and desperately try to remember where the book was resting before I began snooping. By the time I finally get it situated, I'm sweating and no doubt looking like a guilty mess.

I completely forget everything, though, when Rue breezes into the room. My mouth waters as the smell of lilies swirls around the kitchen, and damn if my cock doesn't feel like a pretzel in my pants when it hardens way too fast.

"Hey," I croak out, then I clear my throat while fighting a blush. When I straighten, I huddle behind the chair, desperately clutching it to me in the hopes that she won't notice my erection. The last thing I want to do is scare her off.

"Hey," Rue replies, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "Do I look okay?"

She runs her hands down her skinny jeans. My eyes immediately follow, tracing every delectable curve, and my hands itch to mimic the same path. If she were anyone else, I would say she did it on purpose to entice me, but her teal eyes are innocent and trusting when she peers up at me.

"You are perfect," I answer truthfully, the words escaping before I have a chance to filter them. I shuffle awkwardly but can't look away from the vision of her standing before me. Her hair is once more in bouncy curls that invite me to sink my hands into the strands.

Whatever makeup she uses is minimal but effective. Her dark lashes make her teal eyes pop, but it's the red lipstick that draws my eyes to her pouty mouth, and it's all I can do not to lean forward and steal a taste.

I step back, putting a little more distance between us, trying to remember what we had planned. "The market!" I mentally groan, rolling my eyes at myself, then I turn toward the door and open it before I do something else stupid. "Ready to go?"

She pauses before exiting, looking up at me with a gentle smile. "If it helps, I'm nervous too. This will be my first time shopping."

My mouth drops open as she sweeps out of the house. I lock the door and follow a little bemusedly, wondering what kind of life she lived if she'd never been grocery shopping. When she heads toward the car, I skip ahead and open the door with a flourish.

With a bright smile, she slips into the seat, and I gently close it after her before hurrying around to the other side. I fasten my seat belt, pausing when I notice she fumbles to grab her own belt to copy me.

What the fuck?

Has she truly been locked away where such a simple ride is foreign to her?

I grip the steering wheel, struggling to control my rage. "Why don't we put on some music for the ride?"

I pull out my phone, open the app, then lean toward her. She watches me carefully as I slowly flip through my playlists. Classical rock from the nineties soon spills through the speakers. "You can search through the songs and switch it by just pressing this button."

She nods like I'm telling her the secrets of the universe. I would never hand my phone over to anyone else, but I weirdly trust her. If she wants to snoop, I'm fine with that. For the next five minutes, bits and pieces of different songs play, then she types something into the phone, and seventies rock music fills the car.

With a smile, she hands the phone back to me. "This is one of my favorite playlists."

My eyebrows shoot up, then I smile, slightly relieved by her knowledge. My imagination was getting the better of me for a moment. "Hicks listens to the oldies too."

We ride in silence for the next minute before she sighs and turns toward me. "Ask me."

"What?" I glance at her from the corner of my eye, not taking my attention off the road.

"You're obviously dying to ask me something." She rests her hands primly in her lap. "Ask me."

My curiosity gets the best of me, and I confess to what's been bothering me. "You have a favorite playlist, but never owned a phone. You are familiar with computers, but you've never been grocery shopping. You look out the window like it's a foreign country. You are covered in bruises. You moved in with your nan without a single belonging to your name. You are a contradiction, innocent but cynical at the same time. Who are you, Rue?"

She tilts her head to the side, not shying away from my question. While she appears calm and collected, I don't think she realizes she's twisting her rings around her fingers. "I won't lie to you and give you some bullshit answer. Truthfully, I don't know who I am yet. I'm learning that myself. I'm…just me."

She wilts in her seat, her gaze dropping, and I don't like the way she mentally retreats. I reach over, lightly placing my hand over hers and squeezing it gently. When her gaze snaps up to mine, I smile gently. "I happen to like what I see. You don't have to talk about your past until you're ready. Until then, I look forward to getting to know you better. Maybe we can do it together?"

Her smile is blinding, and she twists her hand until she's gripping mine tightly. "I think I'd like that."

"Me too," Jameson says, popping up from the back seat like a fucking jack-in-the-box.

Rue yelps, and I jerk so badly that I nearly drive us off the road. Only my quick reflexes save us from driving into the ditch. I slam on the brakes, ignoring the blare of horns from behind us, and pull over.

I twist in my seat, ready to crawl into the back seat and beat the shit out of the fucker. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard you guys were going shopping, and I thought I would help." James leans back with a smirk, effectively removing himself from my reach, then slips his hands behind his head with a confidence that I envy.

I bite back a growl before it can escape. The slippery little fucker is lying, but I know from experience that I won't be able to beat the answer out of him. The only way he's going to talk is if he wants to talk. Narrowing my eyes, I huff in annoyance. "You've come to play babysitter."

It's almost ironic that they would send the man whore to chaperone us.

His eyes widen in genuine surprise, and he immediately shakes his head. "You don't need a chaperone. You would never do anything Rue didn't want. I honestly came with you to run interference. Rue shouldn't be out with only one protector. If we run into trouble, you will need me."

I reluctantly nod in acknowledgment, because he's one hundred percent right. While I would love to thump my chest and say I could protect her myself, experience says otherwise.

Anything and everything can go wrong in a fight. One blow, one second of inattention, could cost Rue her freedom, and I'm reluctantly grateful to Jameson for stowing away…though I will never admit that out loud to the fucker.

I won't risk Rue's safety just to steal some time alone with her.

Without replying, I turn around in my seat and restart the car. I look at James in the rearview mirror and nod once in thanks. I just hope I don't regret bringing him along.

"Don't worry." James winks, flashing me a shit-eating grin. "You won't even know I'm here."

I don't even try to disguise my snort.

We're so screwed.

Without the rest of the guys to ride herd on James, we'll be lucky to escape the store without getting arrested for one shenanigan or another.