Settling in

(Mira) A few days passed since the dinner at Ridge’s parents’ house. Work at The Spoke was getting easier. I knew the regulars now, knew what they ordered, knew which ones tipped well and which ones acted like leaving two dollars made them generous. The routine helped. Pour drinks. Clear tables. Stay busy. Hank trusted me enough to leave me alone during lunch shifts while he handled errands around town. That felt good in a way I wasn’t used to anymore. Like maybe I was finally becoming useful somewhere without somebody holding it over my head afterward. What I still didn’t understand was Ridge. Every night around six, he showed up like clockwork. Same seat at the end of the bar. Same order. Burger, fries, water. He handled club business while he ate, talked to brothers who stopped by the bar, watched the room without making it obvious. But every few minutes his attention always came back to me. Checking. Making sure nobody bothered me. It should’ve made me uncomfortable. Instead it made me feel safer than I had in years. Harlow stopped by yesterday afternoon and stayed almost two hours talking about random things while pretending not to notice I barely spoke at first. Real estate drama, town gossip, her mother trying to redecorate the house again. Easy conversation. No pressure. I liked her. That probably should’ve scared me too. Today was my day off. I was upstairs folding laundry when my phone lit up beside me. Unknown Number. My stomach tightened immediately. I stared at the screen while it rang. Then I let it go to voicemail. The notification appeared less than a minute later. I should’ve ignored it. Instead I pressed play. “Mirabelle.” Tyler’s voice filled the room instantly. Every muscle in my body locked. “I know you’re out there somewhere thinking you got away,” he continued. “But you didn’t, baby. You can’t just leave me like that.” I stopped folding the shirt in my hands without realizing it. “We belong together. You know that. I’ve been asking around. Someone’s gonna know where you went eventually.” My throat tightened. “And when I find you, we’re gonna sit down and talk about this properly. I’m not angry anymore. I forgive you. Just come home.” The message ended. Silence filled the room afterward, but Tyler’s voice still felt stuck inside my head. I deleted the voicemail immediately and blocked the number. Then another text came through less than ten seconds later. Unknown Number. You really think blocking me changes anything? My stomach dropped. Another message appeared before I could breathe properly again. Answer the phone. Then another. I know you heard me. My hands started shaking hard enough that I almost dropped the phone. Jesus Christ. I blocked that number too. Another one appeared. This isn’t funny anymore, Mirabelle. I turned the phone off completely after that and shoved it deep into my bag like that would somehow stop him from existing. It didn’t help. Nothing helped. I sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed my hands against my knees while trying to steady my breathing. Tyler always got worse when he felt ignored. Worse when he thought he was losing control. And I left him. Of course he wasn’t stopping. I thought about telling Ridge. He told me already that if anybody came looking for me, he needed to know sooner instead of later. But what was I supposed to say? Tyler sent messages. Tyler made calls. Tyler acted obsessed. None of that was new. I’d survived worse than phone calls. Still, my chest felt tight enough that sitting in this room suddenly became impossible. I grabbed my hoodie and headed downstairs. The bar wouldn’t open for another two hours, but Hank was already there setting things up behind the counter when I walked in. He looked up immediately. “Thought today was your day off.” “It is.” His eyes stayed on my face another second. “You look pale.” “Didn’t sleep good.” That wasn’t fully a lie. Hank nodded once without pushing. “Want to help me inventory the stockroom?” “Yeah.” The work helped a little. Counting bottles. Checking boxes. Keeping my hands busy. Hank talked occasionally while we worked, mostly about supplier issues and somebody overordering beer again. Normal things. Safe things. My phone stayed off upstairs. Still didn’t stop me from thinking about it. By the time we finished inventory, my breathing finally felt closer to normal again. “Thanks,” I muttered. Hank shrugged. “Bar opens in an hour. You staying down here?” “Probably.” “Kitchen’s got sandwiches.” I grabbed one and sat at the bar eating slowly while the building stayed mostly quiet around me. For a few minutes things almost felt normal again. Then the front door opened. Ridge walked in earlier than usual. His eyes found me immediately. “Thought you were off today.” “I am.” “Then why are you here?” “Couldn’t stay upstairs.” Something in my voice must’ve given me away because his expression changed slightly afterward. More focused. He walked over and sat beside me without another question. Silence settled between us. Not awkward. Just there. After a minute he glanced toward me again. “You wanna tell me what happened?” “Not really.” “Fair enough.” I stared down at my sandwich another second before speaking anyway. “If somebody was looking for you,” I asked quietly, “how hard would it be to find you here?” Ridge turned toward me fully after that. “That depends who’s looking.” “What if they’re trying really hard?” His jaw shifted slightly. “This about whoever you ran from?” I nodded once. “They contact you?” “Yeah.” “What’d they say?” I swallowed before answering. “That they’re looking for me.” My fingers tightened slightly around the water bottle beside my plate. “That they forgive me for leaving.” Ridge stayed quiet for a second afterward. Then he asked, “They threaten you?” I thought about the messages. Answer the phone. You really think blocking me changes anything? This isn’t funny anymore. “Not directly,” I admitted quietly. “But enough.” I looked toward him after that. He already understood. That somehow made it worse and better at the same time. “You planning to go back?” he asked. “No.” The answer came fast. Certain. Good. Ridge leaned back slightly afterward. “Then we deal with it when they show up.” Not if. When. Like he already knew Tyler wouldn’t stop. Like he was already preparing for it. He stood afterward, grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler, and placed it in front of me. “Drink something,” he said. “You still look pale.” I took the bottle slowly. “You don’t have to keep taking care of me.” “I know.” “Then why do you?” His eyes held mine steadily. “Because I want to.” Simple answer. Still hit harder than it should’ve. I looked away first. “Okay,” I murmured. “Okay.” He stayed beside me after that while the bar slowly started filling up around us. Brothers came in first. Then regulars. Music started playing low through the speakers while Hank moved around behind the counter getting things ready. Life kept moving. But my mind stayed stuck on Ridge’s words. We deal with it when they show up. For the first time since leaving home, I stopped feeling like I had to survive everything alone. And honestly? That scared me almost as much as Tyler did.