Rebel (Renegades #2)

Rebel (Renegades #2) Page 55

“Sure.” Rubi gently removed the band at the bottom. “Do you want to comb it out, or do you want me to do it?”

“With a brush or your fingers?”

“Fingers, of course.”

“You can do it.”

Rubi ever so gently unwound the braid and sifted her fingers through Emma’s thick blonde strands. There was no screaming, no drama, and no tears involved. “There. You try it.”

Emma repeated Rubi’s motions, then asked, “Does it look okay? Not all messy like I slept on it?”

“It’s a little wavy because of the braid, but no, not messy. Very pretty, actually. Go look.” She pointed toward the bathroom.

Still wearing her clothes from the day before, Emma went into the bathroom. Wes couldn’t see her, but he watched Rubi’s face as Rubi watched Emma. When Rubi’s grin stretched over her beautiful face, Wes knew there had been success and was pleased. But when Rubi turned that smile on Wes to share the accomplishment with an excited thumbs-up, his heart folded and flipped.

Yes, she was definitely the one.

Even exhausted, Wes cooked breakfast for everyone. Whitney had met them at the hospital sometime last night and now held Emma in her lap at the table while the girl sorted and re-sorted a small pile of Legos into colors. Rubi felt as worn out as Wes looked. She knew she couldn’t be, although sleeping with a pair of clinging heaters couldn’t actually be considered sleep. And even though she craved some time either alone or alone with Wes, Rubi spent the morning walking Wes’s father through the program she’d designed for him. His excitement and gratitude made the work worth every minute.

Birdie had no recollection of baking pies or how she received the cut on her arm—for which Rubi was grateful. Susie claimed she couldn’t find a cranberry juice stain anywhere, even after Rubi pointed it out. Susie also told Rubi of a story when Birdie had broken her arm on her own watch, and insisted a cut was nothing to be concerned about.

It was after noon when Wes finally swung his arm around Rubi’s shoulders and told his parents, “Rubi and I are going to take a nap.”

With no orders for them to nap in different rooms—probably too tired to care—Wes walked Rubi up the stairs, fell on the bed, and pulled her down on top of him. He was warm and solid, and Rubi felt her rough edges smooth.

“Thank you for stepping in last night,” he said, his voice rough with fatigue. “Knowing you were taking care of Grams and the girls really took a load off all our minds.”

“I’m glad.” Lying half on him and half on the bed, Rubi slid one of her legs over his, wrapped one arm across his torso, and laid her head on his shoulder. And sighed.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Frazzled. Losing a little stuffing through my seams. But yeah, okay. You?”

“Same.”

A moment of silence passed, and the events of the night before replayed in Rubi’s head. It all looked like chaos. “This family stuff could really kill a person.”

Laughter jumped from Wes’s throat, and he tightened his arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead.

Rubi didn’t remember falling asleep, only realized she had when her phone woke her. She pushed up, waking Wes.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” She rolled to the side of the bed and stood, moving toward the sound of her phone in the bathroom. Crap, she didn’t remember even bringing it in there. But by the time she reached it, the phone had stopped ringing.

“Who was it?” Wes asked, his eyes already closed again, arm outstretched waiting for her to come back to him.

Rubi touched the Recent Calls button and saw: Desiree.

“My Realtor.” And the thought brought back all the problems she still had to face at home. Brought back the decades of anger and pain and frustration surrounding her father.

“Why aren’t you calling her back?” Wes asked.

Rubi blew out a long breath. “I’m…not in a good place to hear bad news.”

In fact, her insides shook just thinking about it. The same weights she’d been dealing with just days ago seemed twice as heavy now. What would she do with Rodie? How far would she need to move from Wes? How long would she have to live somewhere temporary?

Minor problems, considering what Wes’s family dealt with every day—but still big problems to her. Upsetting problems.

“Maybe it’s good news,” Wes said.

Maybe she was just pessimistic, but she didn’t have a good feeling. Nothing involving her father ever turned out well.

She sat on the edge of the bed and dialed. Her stress ratcheted up as the phone rang. And by the time Desiree answered, Rubi knew she was far too brittle to talk about this now.

“Hey, Rubi.” The cautiously disappointed tone in Desiree’s two words confirmed Rubi’s greatest fears.

“Hey. If it’s bad news, I’m not sure I can handle it now.”

“Oh.” Desiree hesitated. “Um, okay.” Another hesitation. “Do you want me to call you later?”

Rubi’s stomach free fell to her feet. She dropped her head into her hand and rubbed at stinging eyes. “He didn’t take my offer.”

“No, I’m sorry, Rubi.” Her sympathy was sincere, but Rubi didn’t want sympathy. She just wanted a normal father.

“Why?” she demanded rather than asked. “Was it too low?”

“No, actually, it was higher than any of the others. Honestly, I don’t know why. The buyer is paying cash, but Dolph’s not in a hurry to sell, so I don’t know what difference that would make. I can call him and—”

“No,” Rubi said from behind clenched teeth. “No point. Thank you for calling.”

“Rubi?” she said before Rubi pulled the phone from her ear. “There’s something else.”

She closed her eyes. “What?”

“It’s a quick turnaround. They’re closing in a week. The new owner wants to move in immediately.”

Rubi’s vision hazed red. “You’re telling me I have to be out in a week?”

“I just got this information fifteen minutes ago. Give me a few to get to the bottom—”

“Don’t waste your time,” Rubi said. “I’ll get to the bottom of it right now. Thanks.”

She hung up and stared at her phone—seething mad. That fucking bastard. She dialed his office number.

“What is it?” Wes asked, his voice guarded.

“I may take a play from Emma’s book here in a minute,” she said without looking at him. “You might want to cover your ears.”

“Russo Industries,” the chipper secretary answered. “Dolph Russo’s office.”

Rubi closed her eyes, took a breath, and held her temper. “This is Rubi Russo. I don’t care what my father is doing or who he’s with. Put him on the phone. Now.”

“Please hold, Ms. Russo.”

Rubi’s eyes opened into narrow suspicion.

“Rubi.” His voice shocked her. He’d never answered one of her calls immediately. Ever. In her entire freaking life. Not even when she’d been in the emergency room getting a cast and stitches after falling down some backstage stairs. When she remained stunned silent, he added an impatient, “What do you want now?”

“I want to know why you sold the house for less than what I offered.”

“Business,” he said, curt and cold. “They offered cash.”

“What difference does that make?”

“It’s quick. Clean. And it was my decision.”

Rubi’s stomach iced over around a fiery ball of hurt. “What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’d have to care to hate you.”

The words hit her like a wall, pain tingling through her skin, sinking into muscle, balling in her gut. “Excuse me?”

“It’s all about the sweetness of the deal, Rubi. The cash was simply sweeter.”

“And you’re giving me a week?”

“That was the buyer’s decision. If you’d like to sweeten your offer, I’d be willing to reconsider.”

She stood and walked to the window, one arm crossed over her chest. Her mind spun, trying to uncover his angle, but she couldn’t figure it out. Not unusual; she could rarely figure him out. “In what way?”

“Wes has ignored my associate’s phone calls,” Dolph said. “Persuade him to contract with us to sell that device he’s invented, and I’ll choose your offer for the house.”

Rubi’s mouth dropped open. The colors outside blurred. “You’re not serious.” She barely whispered the words, knowing he was, but unable to fathom his callousness. “Tell me you have just one shred of decency in you, Dolph. Just one. Tell me you did not mean that.”

“This isn’t about decency. This is about business. Those are my terms. If I don’t hear back from you by the end of business, I’m going forward with the deal I’ve agreed to.”

“Don’t bother waiting. Take it.” She meant to lower the phone, to end the call. But one of those questions she’d always harbored but had never been able to bring herself to ask tumbled out. “Just tell me this. Why did you take me in? If you care so little about me, why take me and raise me?”

“Paternity test,” he said without hesitation. “California has laws. I was going to get stuck with you regardless. And it earned me points over the years. A lot of my clients and partners value family.”

Rubi’s throat swelled closed. Despite the ripping inside, no tears came. She felt cold and hard and hollow. Without a sound, she lowered her phone and ended the call. Then turned the phone off completely. And stared out the window.

“I was thinking.” Wes’s voice made her start, and a sizzle of discomfort slid down her spine. “Why don’t you and Rodie move in with me? I mean, I’ll have to clear it with Jax first, but he and Lexi are going to move into a new house soon and want me to stay at the Malibu house so someone’s there. I don’t think they’d mind. If it’s a problem, we can find something else together, but that would at least give us more time.”

A steel strap wrapped around her chest and cinched. Rubi clenched her teeth to keep from jumping down Wes’s throat—knowing it wasn’t a rational reaction. The rational reaction was Thank you, but no. But his oversimplistic solution not only trapped her right back into that damned straitjacket, it trivialized the significance of this catastrophe in Rubi’s life.

She turned toward him. Assessed his emotionless expression. “What?”

He sat forward. “There’s plenty of room, I love Rodie, you love living on the beach, and…it’s the direction I want us to take.”

Somehow, that didn’t sit right with her. “What do you mean, the direction?”

“I mean…permanent.”

Permanent.

Rubi had to resist the urge to laugh hysterically at the absurdity. Rubi didn’t know the meaning of the word permanent. Never had. Never would. There was nothing permanent about her universe. She’d thought they might be able to work out a relationship, but her mind hadn’t jumped anywhere beyond that.