Lying In Ruins

by Jami Gray

  That earned him a glare equal parts frustration and puzzlement. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Why the act at the door? Not letting Vex inside.’ Since he could erase the itch of lingering suspicions, he pushed. ‘What are you playing at?’

  Her gaze narrowed. ‘I’m not playing at shit. I didn’t bust my ass to keep your friend breathing, to be blindsided by an unexpected visitor intent on finishing the job the Raiders started.’

  The depth of sincerity rang loud and clear in her voice. He chose to acknowledge the sliver of remorse working its way past his normal wariness and answered her earlier question. ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Probably not,’ she muttered with evident sarcasm. She shook her head, then turned and paced a few feet away, rubbing the back of her neck. With her back to him, she stopped. ‘We need to get Simon back to Pebble Creek.’

  ‘Thought you said he wouldn’t make it down.’

  She turned, revealing a grimace as she gently rubbed her injured shoulder. ‘That was before I realised that we might end up with more company than we can handle.’

  ‘You think more Raiders are on their way?’

  She gave him a look he bet she would aim at a child. ‘Don’t you?’

  It was a perfect opening to mention the Raiders meet in Kennewick, but he ignored it, curious as to how she worked. ‘If they were, that’s your plan? Run away?’ He added a bit of derision to the last bit in a deliberate poke.

  Her jaw firmed, and her eyes flashed. ‘You want to face another group of Raiders with what? Sticks and rocks? Are you that eager to die?’

  Her whiplash of contempt slipped under his skin. His temper, thinned by too little sleep, too much banked fury, and a side helping of lust, snapped, incinerating the fact he was deliberately pushing her by playing the asshole in an effort to figure her out. He closed the distance between them. She didn’t budge an inch, simply watched him. Towering over her, hands fisted at his side so he wouldn’t shake the ever-living daylights out of her, he leant in, his voice soft and deadly. ‘The only ones adding their bones to the ground will be Raiders, darlin’.’

  Hands on her hips, her head tilted back, sunlit strands falling away from her face, she lifted her pointed chin and rose on tiptoe until mere inches separated them. ‘No, darlin’—’ Her mimicry of his endearment was full of scorn, ‘—it’ll be Simon’s bones littering the ground, once the Raiders have their fun with the bull-headed ass who mistakenly thought he was the shit, because he had—’ her hand came up and then her finger was drilling into his chest with each word, ‘—no … fucking … weapons.’

  Lit by her fury, there were sparks of gold in her bright blue gaze. Watching the fireworks was damn fascinating, so much so that his anger paused, giving logic a window. Holding her furious gaze, he muttered the first thing that came to his mind, ‘We have weapons.’

  Disbelief chased across her face, and her jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth. ‘Are you kidding me, Ruin?’ She dropped back down and took a step back, her head canted to the side. ‘What weapons do you think we have?’ He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off, her voice sharp, her arm waving back towards the cabin. ‘Did you get a good look at the bag those idiots left? Because I did. What guns they have are corroded and more likely to explode in your face than fire. The knives aren’t balanced for shit. I’m down to fifteen shots between my gun and the rifle, and you have what?’ Her gaze drifted to his pants, her hand going to her hip and her lip curling derisively. ‘A pocket full of shells?’ Her gaze came back up, slow and insolent. ‘Gee, sugar, I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy about our chances of taking out another raiding party.’

  Knowing he was the one fuelling this pointless argument, he gritted his teeth, as her barbs found their mark. Despite her shit-ton of snark, her point was valid. There was no treasure trove of weapons lying around, and he was down to a handful of bullets for the rifle. Which meant it was a good thing he didn’t plan to hang around here. Not that any of that stopped him from opening his mouth and pushing her right over the edge as he gritted out, ‘Don’t need much to wreak havoc.’

  The noise she made was close to a snarl. She spun around, paced a few feet away, fisting her hands in her hair as she muttered to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, he waited her out, part of him amused by her behaviour. Her temper was fun. It wasn’t long before she turned on a heel, nailed him with a glare, then stomped back. ‘What is more important here? Getting Simon back to Pebble Creek or indulging in your bloodlust?’

  He arched a brow. ‘What do you think?’

  Her shoulders went stiff and so did her spine, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. Her reaction left him wondering if he overplayed his hand. ‘I think,’ she started slow and soft, ‘that I’m done here.’

  He kept his face blank, even as he mentally winced. ‘Done?’

  Instead of answering, she turned and headed back to the cabin.

  ‘Charity?’ he called after her.

  She didn’t slow, didn’t turn, didn’t answer.

  Ah shit. It was a bad sign when a woman ignored you. Running a hand through his hair, he closed his eyes, sent up a prayer for patience, then made short work of catching up to her. He wrapped a hand around her arm, minding her shoulder, and pulled her to a stop, forcing her to face him. ‘What do you mean, done?’

  Her normally expressive face was gone. In its place was what he was coming to recognise as her default mask—an empty pleasantness. ‘Between you and your sister, I’m sure the two of you can take care of Simon and whatever game you’ve decided to play here.’ She pulled against his grip. Unwilling to hurt her, he let go and watched her put deliberate distance between them. ‘I, on the other hand, need to get back to Pebble Creek.’

  ‘To find the girl you’re looking for?’

  ‘Among other things.’

  ‘Other things?’

  For a moment, the predator she tried to hide peeked out. ‘Not your concern, Ruin.’

  ‘Now, darlin’, that’s where I have to disagree.’ He closed in. ‘If Reznik is behind the Raiders, it most definitely is my concern. Mine and the Vultures.’

  Her lip curled and then she threw his words from the night before back in his face. ‘Worried I won’t leave you anything to play with?’

  Deciding enough was enough, he stopped with the game and went for the jugular. ‘More worried about what part your sweet ass is playing in all of this.’

  Her head jerked back as if slapped. ‘My part?’

  ‘Yeah, your part.’ Not bothering to hide his suspicions, his gaze drifted over her, his voice icing over. ‘I don’t doubt you’re tracking your missing kid, but that’s not the whole story on why you’re here, is it, Charity?’

  Standing in front of him, she crossed her arms, and he tried to ignore what that did to her chest. ‘You think I had a hand in what happened to Simon?’

  He didn’t, but he held his tongue, curious as to what was coming next.

  ‘You are un-fucking-believable,’ she muttered. ‘Just so we’re clear, Vulture, I had not one damn thing to do with Simon or Crane.’ Then she proved just how dangerous she was because she didn’t stop there. ‘But you are right about one thing.’

  When she didn’t say another word, he knew he was being led, but he still asked, ‘And that is?’

  ‘Tracking Tabitha wasn’t my only reason for seeking out Crane.’

  Adrenaline roared through him, and every hunting instinct he possessed went on point. Finally, they were getting somewhere. ‘Then what was?’

  ‘Something you aren’t in a position to give me.’

  Stung on some inexplicable level, he snapped, ‘You sure about that?’

  ‘Quite.’ Then she smiled, catching him off guard. It was sharper than anything he’d seen and considering who his twin was, that was saying something. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m fairly certain that will change.’

  Knowing he was being played sucked, but he’d let her have this. For now. ‘And why’s t
hat?’

  She made a soft hum, before elaborating. ‘Because I’m not done with you or the Vultures just yet.’

  Chapter 9

  Charity was pissed. Not at Ruin and his games, that was expected. Nope, all her anger was self-directed because she let a few hot tongue tangles and a case of raging hormones blindside her to who she was dealing with and that was not acceptable. Everyone had an agenda nowadays, and no matter how much Ruin pulled at her, it would serve her well to remember his agenda could be as dangerous, if not more so, than hers. Which meant she needed to proceed with caution and not get sidetracked by a wickedly hot body and talented mouth.

  Her plan to saddle up and make tracks was derailed when Vex met her at the doorway with the order-bordering-on-threat to get her ass inside and help since Simon was going back to Pebble Creek. Normally Charity would have no problem educating Vex on how well orders-bordering-on-threats worked, if it wasn’t for the worry trying to hide under her bluster.

  As she helped Vex prepare Simon for transport, Charity silently fumed, giving her hormones and brain a severe talking to. Despite her teeth-gritting frustration and anger, she made sure to handle Simon with as much care as possible as she and Vex bound his ribs, then dressed him in one of Ruin’s t-shirts and a salvaged pair of pants. Poor guy didn’t deserve to pay for his friend’s crimes. He was sweaty and pale by the time they got him up on his feet. It was slow going to the cabin’s doorway. They managed though with her bracing Simon from the right, while Vex did her part on his left.

  Ruin brought the sturdy, dust-covered beast Vex rode in on to a halt, feet from the cabin entrance. Carefully, she and Vex manoeuvred Simon out into the morning sunshine. With a soft hiss, Simon dropped his head, his one good eye narrowing to a mere slit as his shoulders hunched. Charity wasn’t the only one who caught his reaction to the bright sunlight. Ruin held out his sunglasses. ‘Here.’

  Simon unwound his arm from Vex’s shoulders, took the offering and despite his shaky, bandaged hand, managed to get them on with a sigh a relief. ‘Thanks.’

  Slowly releasing Simon’s waist, Vex asked Charity for the fourth time, ‘You sure you’ve got this?’

  Reaching for her waning patience, Charity smothered the urge to roll her eyes. ‘I’ve got him. Go, get up. Ruin and I will help Simon mount.’

  Vex waited for her brother to step in and replace her at Simon’s other side. Then she made quick work of getting up on the horse.

  ‘You ready?’ Charity murmured to Simon.

  He eyed Vex and her horse, grim determination evident despite his washed out colouring. ‘Let’s do this before I pass out.’

  Ruin and Charity worked together with a minimum of curses and got Simon up behind Vex. Since they were heading back down the mountain, the decision to have Simon ride behind Vex meant he could use her as a brace. Something he needed since Charity and Vex both shared serious concerns about the state of his ribs. As worried as Charity was about the toll this trip would take on him, there was no doubt Vex had her beat. There was something strangely compelling about watching the kick-ass woman play the mother hen.

  Vex craned her head over her shoulder so she could see Simon, her face creased with a scary as shit frown. ‘You sure about this?’

  Simon cautiously adjusted his seat in the saddle, tried to hide his wince and failed. ‘Not like we’ve got much choice, doll.’ He gingerly wrapped one of his dark arms around her narrow waist. Vex’s hand immediately covered his and Charity wondered if the other woman understood how much her tiny movement said. Simon leant in and brushed his nose against Vex’s, then said, ‘Let’s hit the road. We need to get back.’

  Guess Charity wasn’t the only one who couldn’t shrug off the itch they were racing against some unseen clock.

  Vex turned forward. ‘Got everything?’ She directed the question to Ruin, who nodded. Everything they could pack was packed, erasing the more obvious signs of their stay. Well, except for the bodies Ruin stashed god knows where. ‘Good, then. Get up and let’s head out.’

  Ruin led the way down the mountain with Vex and Simon in the middle, while Charity brought up the rear. On the trail, conversation was limited. Sound carried and no-one seemed inclined to chatter. Good thing, since there was plenty for Charity to think through. When Ruin accused her of ulterior motives, he cut uncomfortably close to the truth. There was much more going on than he was aware of, but she wasn’t in a position to share. Not yet.

  It was a no brainer who would be running Crane’s operation until Simon was ready to get back in the driver’s seat, especially since Boden made it clear he had no interest in playing in Crane’s sandbox. With Crane dead and Simon incapacitated, it meant she would be dealing with Fate’s Vultures from here on out. The Vultures would stick close consider how protective they were of Simon. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that or exactly what it meant for her agenda. On one hand, dealing with a group she held a healthy respect for wasn’t a hardship. On the other, they may not take kindly to dealing with her once they realise who sent her and why. And it wasn’t like she could just say ‘Whoops, my bad,’ and leave. Not only was there a little girl to rescue, but there was still the business she originally intended to address with Crane. Business that required a certain level of discretion and trust.

  Studying the two Vultures ahead of her, she had no doubt those commodities would be in short supply when it came to her. Maybe she was creating problems where none existed, but she doubted it.

  A simple phone call once they hit Pebble Creek might solve part of her issue, or at least give her a chance to explain before they threw her out of town. Unfortunately, Crane’s death twisted her phoned in status report into something much more complex. She blew out a quiet breath and ducked when her horse passed under low-lying branches. It was tempting to skip the check in. Wouldn’t be that hard to blame it on a cut line. What was that old saying? Better to ask for forgiveness than permission? Sounded about right. But no matter how much her gut squirmed about the upcoming confrontation, and it would be a confrontation, she couldn’t risk skipping the call. Not if it granted her the freedom to join up with the Vultures and hunt down whoever was behind the kidnappings. Plus, it would get Tabby home and ensure she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. That was if Tabby was one of the girls under Mandy’s care. She didn’t want to think about the ramifications of what it meant if Tabby wasn’t there.

  Deliberately, she began analysing her earlier exchange with Ruin, trying to understand why she was so pissed at him. It wasn’t his deliberate provocation that irked her. If he hadn’t tried such an approach, she would have been disappointed. Nope, that wasn’t it. It was because he hurt her feelings with his suspicions. Hurt feelings, what the hell was wrong with her? Just thinking the words made her wince, no way in hell would she ever admit that out loud. Talk about a childish reaction. Feelings would get her gutted faster than a Raider’s knife.

  Remember who you’re dealing with, girl.

  A reminder she wished she heeded last night. Better he consider her nothing more than a tool to be used or a possible threat to eliminate, than something infinitely more damaging. And that he didn’t trust her was crystal fucking clear. Now that she had the distance and time, she was like a child with a troublesome knot, picking through their conversation—his phrasing, his expressions, the way he reacted—and it finally began falling into place. Stunned by how long it took her to clue in to his game, her frustration and anger peaked. Her head jerked up, and she glared at Ruin’s back as it swayed ahead of her. ‘You bastard,’ she muttered under her breath.

  Simon’s head, which rested against Vex’s shoulder, lifted. He tried to look back but barely managed to give Charity his profile. ‘Something up?’

  His question caused Ruin to shift in his saddle. Charity waved a hand at him to keep going, while she answered Simon. ‘Nope, just talking to myself back here.’

  ‘Might want to keep it down,’ Vex drawled, not bothering to look back.


  Charity didn’t bother sniping back, her mind racing. Ruin avoided answering her question about possible incoming Raiders, which indicated a lack of concern. There was only one reason he wouldn’t be worried about retaliatory Raiders. If she skipped to the next logical step, it meant he knew no-one was heading to the cabin. Adding in his asinine comments about running away and the useless weapons, her frustration mounted. The obvious taunts didn’t fit with the highly intelligent hunter she knew he was, so what game was he playing?

  Maybe he wanted to see how far he could push before she pushed back? Or maybe he hoped she got so fed up, she would decide to bail? Hmm, maybe. Or better yet, maybe he was trying to trip her up. Who the hell knew what went on in that disgustingly gorgeous head of his.

  But none of that explained his lack of protest or his willingness to risk his friend’s health in heading back to Pebble Creek. Even after Vex guilted Charity into helping her with Simon, Charity couldn’t recall the twins talking about it. Ruin simply had the horse ready and waiting when they brought Simon out. Which meant, if there was no incoming threat, something else lit a fire under his ass. Ruin had to be hiding something his chew toy shared, something important. Say, like, where the hell the Raiders were holed up? Or maybe a lead on Reznik? The more she turned it over, the more she was willing to bet one of her blades she was on the right track. And the more determined she became to stick like glue to the Vultures, and more importantly, Ruin.

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they hit Pebble Creek, the trek down the mountain slowed by Simon’s condition. Charity didn’t bother trying to confront Ruin with her suspicions, there was no point. As a ‘Hound she knew the value of patience. She would wait and see how things went with Reaper, the Vultures’ de facto leader.

  There were rumours about the man, many and legion, which made it hard to cull fact from fiction. Yet to be a leader, especially of a volatile group like theirs, required the ability to weigh all options, and she was betting everything on Reaper’s mind being more strategic than most.