Page 5

Beth

T he bedroom door clicked shut, muffling the sounds of the house beyond. I could hear the dull thuds of Ruugar’s boots as he moved away.

For the first time since I ran, I took a deep breath and let it out.

Another. Phew. I’d made it so far. Now to remain hidden.

I knew nothing about Ruugar, and maybe I was na?ve, but I was going to trust him—for now.

To think the first person I run into is the orc I haven’t been able to get out of my mind.

I reminded myself not to let my little crush keep me from seeing who he truly was.

So far, he seemed decent. Awkward, but so was I.

We’d see how he behaved over the next few hours.

Sanctuary, though, and boy, did it feel good.

I slid off the bed and walked over to stand in front of the small trash bin beside the nightstand.

My fingers trembled as I reached behind me, fumbling to undo the buttons down the back of the wedding dress.

Stiff and heavy, the dress was a cage built of ivory silk.

It stretched tight across my ribs, my hips, only flaring out around my legs with yards and yards of tulle beneath.

Bradley had picked it out, and I hated it.

Was there anything more hideous than this dress?

When I couldn’t wrangle the buttons through their loops, I contemplated finding Ruugar and asking him to do it for me. But he’d seemed so sweet and insecure that I hated to bother him.

Who cared if I ripped the dress apart? I’d never wear it again.

One by one, I popped the buttons, savoring how they pinged when they hit the floor.

I'd clean them up, naturally, but oh, how good it felt to tear this monstrosity apart.

With each release, a bit more of the tension in my shoulders gave way.

He and my father had dictated every part of this wedding. What I wore. Where it happened. The life I would walk into, trapped by vows I wouldn’t have been allowed to refuse.

Well, no more. I was done with all that. With them and their plans.

Bradley could pop out his two children by himself.

The final button came undone, and I shoved the dress down over my hips, stepping out of it like I was shedding the last piece of my old life.

If only. The fabric pooled around my feet in a useless heap.

I gathered it up and shoved it into the trash bucket.

It didn't fit, the expensive silk and miles of tulle overflowing in a crumpled mess.

A small grin curled up my lips. It looked ridiculous .

Amazing , actually.

“What do you think of your dress now, Bradley? I ripped it off my body, not you.” A shiver rushed through me, peppering my skin.

I'd dreaded tonight. Sobbed about what I'd face more times than I could count.

I hadn't had sex; my father had strictly watched over me all my life.

But my first time with Bradley? The thought had made me want to die inside.

Grabbing my bag from the bed, I pulled out the clothes I’d packed in secret: black yoga pants, a loose t-shirt. Simple things that made me feel normal. Free. The second I tugged them on, something in my chest loosened.

I glanced at the dress one last time before striding over to it and grinding the overflowing, nasty fabric into the floor. With a wipe of my palms against each other, I turned away.

Bradley could have his wedding. I wasn’t going to be in it.

Dim lights barely lit up the hallway and the floorboards felt cool beneath my feet as I padded toward the glow of the living room on the right. Silence stretched between the walls, interrupted only by the faint creak of the house settling for the night.

Ruugar sat on an oversized couch, his long legs planted on the floor, his arms resting against the back cushions like it had been made especially for him. Orc-sized, however, so maybe it had.

He still exuded that calm, solid presence I’d noted the first time I met him.

This male had been built for things that wouldn’t break under pressure and that not only made me feel secure for the first time in…

well, forever, it kind of made me want to cry.

I sniffed and held the latter back. Who knew how he’d respond if I started weeping.

The living room wasn’t what I expected, though I wasn't sure what I thought I’d find.

No television. No pictures on the walls.

Just a gorgeous wooden bookcase filled with thick tomes covered in embossed lettering I didn’t recognize.

Orcish, maybe? His language. Not a single English title among them, though it hardly mattered.

He was offering me temporary sanctuary, not a new home.

A low wooden table sat in front of the couch, glossy and new appearing.

Across from him, a new, yet old-appearing wooden rocker slowly shifted, as if someone had just stepped away to get a drink in the kitchen.

It was as orc-sized as everything else in the house, including the bed that had been built for orc-length legs.

I’d felt the size of a child when I sat on the edge.

The furniture inside his house was plain. Simple. And strangely comforting.

I hesitated in the open doorway, but when he looked up, his gaze full of kindness and not a hint of anything creepy, I crossed the room and lowered myself into the rocking chair, tucking my feet underneath me.

Silence echoed around us. He didn’t ask if I was okay. Didn’t push or pry. Just waited. Ruugar appeared to possess a patience I’d rarely found in other males before. I suspected he could sit here quietly forever, and it wouldn’t bother him one bit .

Too bad my own thoughts weren’t as steady.

I rubbed my arms, glancing at the floor as everything caught up with me.

“I don’t know what to do.” The words barely made their way out, but they were true. So painfully true.

Ruugar’s dark eyes rested on me.

My words slipped out too fast, tumbling over each other in my rush to explain.

“I only have a few hundred dollars, which won’t get me far.

I have a credit card, but I bet anything they can track me if I used it.

My father and Bradley are tech-savvy. I'm not. I wouldn’t put anything past them.

” My throat burned. “They will hunt me forever. I should’ve planned better, but this was my first chance to run. ”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only shift in his expression. Without a word, he reached into his pocket, tugging something out and extending his hand toward me, palm up. Four gold nuggets the size of my thumbnail rested on his hand, catching the light, almost glowing.

“Is that real gold?” I asked, not sure if I could laugh or… Definitely didn’t want to cry.

“Yes.” He stretched his hand forward, offering me something impossibly valuable as if they were stones he’d picked up in the yard.

I hesitated, then shook my head. “I can’t take that.”

He didn’t move. “You need it.”

“There’s no denying that, but what am I supposed to do with raw gold?

” I let out a low laugh, staring at the gleaming nuggets in his massive hand.

Wanting to take them but knowing I couldn't. “I can’t walk into a bank and ask them to turn them into cash. That would raise questions. And questions mean attention, something I’m desperate to avoid. ”

“I’ll trade them in for you and give you the paper money.”

“Where?” I didn’t remember seeing a real bank in town, but there must be an ATM. Did ATMs take gold nuggets?

“Wherever I need to.” Ruugar sat back, his hand now cupping the gold nuggets on his thigh. His face remained unreadable, but there was something in his posture that felt like disappointment. Or frustration. Like he wanted to help me, but he couldn’t figure out how.

“I mined it in the mountains,” he said, his tone careful, his eyes fixed on the wall past my shoulder.

Not lying, per se, but not being completely honest. I’d bet anything on it.

I doubted he'd stolen it, however. I'd pretty much just met him but there was an honest integrity in him I hadn't found in many other people. I knew con artists. I’d been raised by one, watching him refuse to pay for something he'd purchased then daring them to sue him, knowing they couldn't afford to take him to court.

Then he'd laugh because he felt he'd won when all he did was make himself look like a nasty bully.

Bradley was exactly the same.

Ruugar was nothing like my father and Bradley.

“Keep your gold, though I do appreciate it,” I said. And I did. No one had ever handed me help this freely before. “I’m not sure I could actually use it. ”

Ruugar slid them back into his pocket. “I understand. If you change your mind, they're yours.”

“Thank you.” I shifted, making the rocker move, soothed by the rhythmic motion, trying to wrap my head around what I'd done.

I was free, but for how long? I knew very well what Bradley and my father would do if they found me.

Drag me back by my hair, put a blade to my spine while someone married us, then lock me inside a house, turning me into Bradley's fuck doll.

I'd never taste freedom again. Even worse, my children would grow up in the same, torturous environment as me.

As I rocked, I studied Ruugar, trying to see past his exterior.

He was easily the strongest-looking man I’d ever seen.

Gorgeous, too, though that shouldn’t matter.

He sat like a mountain, and I’d bet nothing could uproot him.

He’d been built to bear the weight of almost anything without buckling. Tall, almost seven feet, I’d say.

His skin was a deep, calming shade of green, speckled with tiny scratches here and there, marks of work, of effort, of a life spent building and tending to something more important than himself.

His thick, dark hair cascaded over his shoulders, long and slightly messy, like he had better things to do than worry about raking a comb through it.

His dark eyes seemed to see past my skin to the aching place inside me that was most vulnerable.

His black-and-white vest he wore over his bare chest only made him more striking, accentuating the powerful lines of his body .

And tusks. They jutted up from his bottom lip, prominent but not overwhelming, giving him an air of wildness without messing up the warmth in his expression.

I'd never met an orc before visiting Lonesome Creek a few months ago.

Before that, I had no idea what they were supposed to look like, act like. But Ruugar?

He was kind. Sweet, even.

He must have felt my stare because his gaze lifted to meet mine. My stomach tightened.

Heat crept up my neck, and I quickly looked away.

What was I even thinking? I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything for him.

Being grateful for his help was one thing, but letting my heart flip over whenever he looked my way would only send me spiraling.

I had to focus on escaping, not the odd yet exciting feelings I got whenever I looked at Ruugar.

“What are your plans, then?” he asked.

How would “I have none” go over? Would he laugh or would he shake his head and march me straight back to town?

“I’m still figuring that out,” I said, my voice quavering.

I felt like I hadn’t slept in days. Months, actually, not since Bradley slid the gaudy engagement ring on my finger.

Which I could hawk, come to think of it.

If I knew Bradley, the diamond was real.

That might give me enough to live on for at least a few weeks.

“You can stay here until you decide what you want to do,” Ruugar said. “I have plenty of room.”

Where? As far as I could tell, this was a one-bedroom home. Although, I was more than happy to sleep on a sofa. Sure beat lying in a bed beside Bradley.

“That’s nice of you to offer,” I said. “But it’s not safe for me to be in Lonesome Creek for long.

My father and Bradley will be looking for me, and I doubt they’ll give up until they’d poked their heads inside each building.

Even the closets. They won’t stop until they’ve found me, and…

” I refused to name it. It wasn’t going to happen.

I’d ask Ruugar to take me a few towns over, hopefully one with a pawn shop.

Once I had cash, I’d buy a cheap wig and board whatever bus would take me as far from my father and Bradley as I could afford.

“You’ll be safer here,” he said. “With me.” His voice came out neutral, like what he’d said wasn’t something that could change the course of everything. “I’m not taking you anywhere until you have a solid plan and the means to make it happen.”

A plan. Right. Without money, it really didn’t matter.

“We can keep you hidden,” he said. “They’ll eventually give up and leave town, and then, together, we’ll figure out what you can do. I’ll trade in the gold, and you’ll have enough paper money to start a new life.”

I swallowed, staring at him. His expression hadn’t changed, and I didn’t sense he was pressuring me. I only saw a certainty that whatever had to be done, he would do it if it meant keeping me safe.

I barely knew him. And yet somehow, I did. “You mean that?”

“Yes.”

The fact that he hadn’t tried to pry, hadn’t tried to corner me into anything, not even into trusting him, eased some of my fears. He wasn’t demanding answers. He wasn’t trying to own or control me. He was just offering me a safe place to think, to regroup.

I didn’t want to run again. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I'll stay here with you for a day or two.”