Lying In Ruins

by Jami Gray

  Pit shrugged. ‘Yeah, sure. ‘Cept you don’t haft to worry about Simon. I’m pretty damn sure he ain’t breathing no more.’

  Strangely, River Man stiffened and snapped, ‘Explain.’

  ‘When I left the others, they were busy nailing his hide to a wall.’ Pit’s chuckle grated over Charity’s skin and left her fighting back images of Simon’s impaled body. Breathing through her fury, she refocused on the conversation below.

  Suddenly River Man moved into her line of sight and crowded into Pit’s personal space, forcing him to take a couple steps back. ‘Excuse me?’

  Confusion melded with Pit’s mulish expression. ‘We followed directions. We hit Pebble Creek, took out Crane, and made sure to leave ‘em scrambling. But we was leaving and he was doggin’ our heels, so we took care of him.’

  ‘That wasn’t part of your assignment,’ the smaller man hissed, his displeasure clear and unmistakable. Despite the concealing edge of the hoodie, Charity made out a square jaw and pointed nose, but not much else.

  Pit stopped his retreat and faced down River Man, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as if it took everything he had not to wrap his thick hands around the other man’s neck. ‘Meybe not, but the fool followed us out. No way was he gettin’ a chance to go back and set those damn Vultures on our asses.’

  ‘You sure he’s dead?’ With that question, Charity knew whoever was spying for Reznik hadn’t checked in lately, otherwise River Man would be taking a different approach.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure.’

  River Man held still, staring at the Raider. ‘For your sake, you best be damn sure.’

  Pit leant in, putting his face close to River Man’s. ‘The agreement was takin’ out Crane, not the Vultures. We don’t want the trouble they bring.’

  ‘Then your fellow Raiders will not be pleased when you bring that trouble to their doorstep.’

  The burly idiot shook his head. ‘Ain’t no trouble followin’ me.’

  The Broker cocked his head. ‘You sure about that? Where’s the rest of your crew?’

  Pit glared. ‘They be here in a few hours.’

  River Man studied him. ‘You better hope so, because if the Vultures catch the barest hint you had anything to do with killing Simon, you’ve got a shit-ton more than trouble on your asses.’

  ‘Whatta ya mean?’

  River Man stepped back and shook his head. ‘I don’t have the time nor inclination to explain it to you.’ He began to move back towards the tunnel’s entrance. ‘Tell the others we’ll have the agreed upon payment ready and waiting.’

  ‘Hold on, you little sh—’ Pit’s words cut off as a bloody hole blossomed between his startled eyes. He weaved like a cut tree before his knees collapsed and he toppled forward.

  The sharp echoing crack of a long distance shot bounced around the room, making Charity wince. Stunned by the sudden addition of a sniper, she froze in place, her head turning to Ruin with his barely audible oath. Their gazes met and held even as the faint call of ‘Pit?’ drifted in from outside. Then a second shot sounded, followed by the dull thump of a body hitting the ground. She looked back to the room below where River Man uttered a vicious curse and dove headlong into the tunnel, just missing his chance to be the third dead body, as another shot ricocheted off the wall where he once stood.

  Seconds stretched by as she waited for another shot, but it remained quiet. She stared down at the now dead Raider crumpled on the ground in a seeping pool of crimson. Looked like someone was determined to tie up loose ends.

  A touch on her arm jerked her gaze over to discover Ruin had crawled closer. ‘We need to follow him.’

  Him being River Man. She gave a jerky nod. If they didn’t get to him before the shooter, they could kiss their chances of getting to Reznik goodbye. She followed Ruin to the back of the carousel, both of them being careful to stay low. She strained to hear over her thudding pulse, but her ears could only pick up the occasional breeze. No revving engines or running feet joined the morning.

  At the back edge of the roof, as far from the sniper’s targets as possible, they slid down to the floor. She grabbed Ruin’s arm, keeping her voice soft. ‘We can’t go back out the tunnel or we’ll cross his sights.’ And become new targets.

  He shook his head. ‘Don’t have much of a choice. Plus, I think he’s already gone, probably trying to do the same thing we’re going to do.’

  Gathering her disjointed thoughts, she muttered, ‘Track down River Man.’

  He nodded. ‘Ready?’

  Not really, but she wasn’t about to sit here and wait to get shot either. ‘Yeah, let’s do it.’

  Chapter 18

  They managed to make it out and back to their bikes without spotting a single hair of River Man or their mysterious shooter. Ruin wasn’t surprised. Between the care they took getting out of the building and Charity digging out the embedded slug from the third shot, it not only gave their prey a huge head start, but added another layer to his frustration. What the hell was she planning to do with the slug? After impacting the cement wall, there wasn’t much left.

  Once at their bikes, he and Charity shared a quick conversation, came up with a half-assed plan and decided to head back into Kennewick. Since the Raiders were dead, and River Man was in the wind with a big old target on his ass, it left them with few options to accomplish their end goal. Better to do what their shooter was probably doing—use the Broker to get to Reznik.

  Ruin kept up a silent litany of curses as he led Charity back into Kennewick. The conversation at the Carousel left him reeling, and he tried to fit the new pieces into his patchy puzzle of what the hell was going on. Their problems were piling up fast. First was the confirmation of Reznik’s role in this mess. He couldn’t even take time to relish in telling Charity he told her so. Her belief that Reznik couldn’t manage something this big always bothered him, more so the longer he worked with her. She had a knack for reading people, one that epically failed when it came to the New Seattle crime lord. Hell, it wouldn’t be surprising to find out the shooter was hired by Reznik. No honour among thieves and all that shit.

  Then there was the bonus challenge of the traitor sneaking around Pebble Creek, and just in case that wasn’t enough to leave him longing for a straightjacket, there was an ominous twisting in his gut about the singular interest in the kids. It made him agree with Charity’s assumption something bigger was at play, and if they didn’t figure it out fast, they were fucked. The whole thing stank to high heaven. He needed access to a phone because Reaper needed to watch his back and keep a close eye on those kids.

  With River Man being on the run, it wouldn’t take him long to start questioning who wanted him dead. Considering the Raiders fucked things up in Pebble Creek with Simon, the Vultures would rise to the top of his list. And since the Broker left the more questionable members of Kennewick pissing in their pants, it wouldn’t be long before he knew a Vulture was in town circling. Which meant going back to the Lodge was out. Instead, the two of them needed to get a grip on what was going down. That meant sticking to Charity’s side as she reached along her spider web of contacts for information on a possible hit on the Broker. Considering Echo’s earlier reaction to River Man, Ruin wasn’t holding hope for results.

  As they hit the more populated edges of Kennewick, Charity took the lead. It was late morning and the roads were busy. He followed her twists and turns as she headed into the older section of the city, in the opposite direction of the Lodge. The crowds thinned and buildings became more and more decrepit. The echoes of their bikes became overly loud as they steered down alleys so narrow his shoulders almost brushed the sides. The hair at the back of his neck came on point and stayed there, quivering. He scanned their tight surroundings and caught flitting shadows in various openings. Yeah, they were being watched.

  Charity finally stopped before scarred metal guarding a loading dock. She left her bike running, hopped off, and slipped inside the building through the fire-scor
ched door standing to the side. In moments the creak of metal joined the chime of heavy chains, and the loading dock door began to rise. Waiting until there was enough space to clear, he drove in. Dismounting, he caught the flash of Charity ducking back out. He went over, grasped the chain, and as soon as she drove in, began lowering the door back in place.

  The solid thunk as it settled echoed in the cavernous space. He pushed his sunglasses up and looked around as Charity shut her bike down. There were bare bulbs hanging from long wires along the centre beams providing meagre light. Boxes and barrels were piled along one wall. Long tables with scattered, rusted tools took up space here and there, some were accompanied by thick chains suspended from beams. There were sections partitioned off, some decorated with faded, curled posters of long gone cars draped in nude women. Interesting decorations.

  ‘We need to move the bikes to the back.’ Charity began wheeling her bike.

  He followed as she headed to one of the walls and disappeared around the corner. Coming in behind her, he realised they were in a small back room.

  ‘Park it here,’ she advised, motioning for him to set his bike next to hers as she stood over by the far wall. When it was in place, she tugged him back and grinned. ‘Now watch.’ She turned to the wall where an old electrical box hung. She opened the panel, flipped a couple of switches, a motor ground to life, and the floor under the bikes began to drop.

  Colour him impressed. ‘Nice. Yours?’

  Charity shook her head. ‘Way out of my price league.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ he drawled. ‘Not out of Lilith’s?’

  ‘Bingo.’ She kept an eye on the lift as it dropped into place.

  ‘You sure that shooter didn’t belong to her?’

  She wrinkled her nose at his question, but her answer was solid. ‘Wasn’t hers. Too messy, and River Man’s still upright.’

  ‘Why dig the bullet out?’

  She eyed him, then answered, ‘Snipers tend to use unique ammunition.’

  Right, Havoc mentioned that once. Skilled shooters were paranoid about their bullets and tended to personally hand-pack their ammunition. ‘You’re thinking it’s a way to trace the shooter?’

  She shrugged and flipped another switch. ‘It’s a long shot.’ What looked like a replica of the earlier section began to slide closed. ‘If we strike out here, it’s one I’m willing to try.’ The section slipped into place with a solid click.

  ‘You sure it won’t lead back to Lilith?’ As soon as the question came out, he knew he was reaching.

  So did Charity. Done stashing the bikes, she lifted her head and met his gaze. ‘She wouldn’t want their end to be that quick.’

  Yeah, that’s kind of what he figured, but Charity’s connection to Lilith still irritated him, forcing him to ask. He followed her back out front determined to set aside his personal hang-ups and get back on track. ‘Can you get me to a phone?’

  She worried her bottom lip and gave a slow nod. ‘Yeah, but it’ll take a bit.’ She stopped by one of the tables and leant against it, her arms folded over her chest. ‘You sure you want to call in now? It’s not like we’ve got much to give.’

  He opened his mouth but she cut him off. ‘Yeah, there’s a mole, but we don’t have a name or anything to go on.’

  He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It’s not just that, there’s the threat to the kids.’

  Her face softened. ‘I don’t think anyone’s getting past Mandy, and that’s if they make it by Reaper first.’

  She might have a point. With Lilith heading in for her daughter, Reaper would have those kids locked down. Ruin matched her pose. He was still making that call, though. ‘How sure are you that you’ll find a hit on River Man?’

  A minute ticked by as she gave his question serious consideration. ‘Fairly certain. A job like that requires specialised skills.’

  Curious about her approach, he asked, ‘So what’s the plan? You’re going to reach out and just ask who’s got a hard-on for River Man?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘As if that would work. You saw Echo’s reaction. If she’s running scared of him, no way in hell I’m getting anyone else to ‘fess up. I have to handle it with more subtlety than that.’ A tiny frown furrowed her brow.

  Unable to resist, he reached out and used his finger to smooth out the lines, then drew it down and under her chin. With a gentle nudge, he tipped her chin up. There was no missing the calculating gleam staring back. His gaze drifted over her flushed features, only to stop on her lips. It was tempting, very, very tempting to kiss her, instead, he clawed his lust back and cleared his throat. ‘Your plan?’

  ‘I’ll put out word that Lilith has a job open.’ Her response was equally husky and went straight to his dick. Not a surprise since after last night pretty much everything she did was guaranteed to invoke the same reaction.

  Reeling his reactions back, he dropped his hand and lost the heat of her. ‘We don’t have much time to wait around for responses.’

  ‘We won’t have to. I’ll make it a time sensitive job, give enough details to keep it close to the hit we just witnessed.’ She stepped back. ‘Between that and the specific skills needed, we should at least get a name or two to check out by tonight. It might get us something you can share with the others.’

  He picked over her idea. Holding off a few more hours shouldn’t hurt. ‘Don’t you think your request would seem obvious coming on the heels of what happened?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s a chance we’ll have to take. Unless you have a better idea?’

  The hell of it was, he didn’t. Which meant relying on Charity’s skills as a ‘Hound. ‘Not yet, but I’ll let you know if that changes.’

  She laughed at his obvious disgruntlement. A genuine laugh that lit her face and left him stunned. ‘Gee, don’t get too excited.’

  ‘Too late,’ he muttered, trying to clear the dazed fog from his mind. He straightened and in a louder voice added, ‘Alright, let’s move. The longer it takes, the deeper he’ll go.’

  By late afternoon Ruin’s feet were aching, but it was a dull ache thanks to the copious amounts of home-brew sloshing in his belly. Charity’s version of ‘putting out word’ equalled his version of bar hopping. He spent most of the time hanging back and gritting his teeth as drunk and not-so-drunk bastards risked their lives by putting their hands on her. Watching her work was pure hell. He didn’t know if he wanted to shake her or bend her over the nearest surface and stake his claim in the most basic way possible. Either way, it was so far off his normal love-‘em-and-leave-‘em attitude, he was teetering on a dangerous edge of temper, fuelled by, he hated to admit it, jealousy.

  Despite his primitive response, he had no problem recognising that she was fucking brilliant at what she did. Every time she slipped into a group, she changed, morphing into whatever personality fit best. A crucial, but worrisome skill, in her line of work. There were no outright interrogations, instead, she finagled information with an easy laugh and encouraging smile. For the harder customers, her smile took a sharper, hungrier curl and her laugh left a few sweaty, pale faces in her wake. Either way, she walked away with another bit of information.

  As they headed towards yet another damn bar, his glare was aimed at her ass swaying in front of him. He wondered how much longer he was going to last before he lost it and gave into the hunger clawing under his skin. Forcing his gaze away, he scanned their surroundings. Maybe he’d get lucky and find that another dumbass was trying to follow. He managed to run off two so far, but it hadn’t put a dent in his roiling frustration. Maybe the third time would be the charm.

  He pulled up short when a soft weight landed on his chest. He looked down to find Charity standing in front of him, her eyes narrowed. ‘Is there something wrong with my ass, Ruin?’

  ‘What?’ It was difficult to get the word out, but he managed.

  She leant in, her voice going to a near purr. ‘You’ve spent the last few minutes singeing my ass with your glare. So is something wron
g with it?’

  Her challenge tipped his control over the edge. He cupped the back of her head and dragged her close, using his other hand to squeeze the ass in question. He let a few seconds pass relishing the press of her curves against his aching body before giving her a quick, hard kiss. Not enough to satisfy, just enough to soothe the jealous beast inside. He lifted his head but didn’t release her. ‘Not a damn thing. In fact, instead of hitting another dive, I have a better idea.’

  Her lips twitched, and she rubbed her hard little nipples against him in a slow drag. ‘Do you now?’

  ‘Mm-hmm.’ Unable to resist, he took another taste, a little deeper this time.

  She gave as good as she got, her body shifting against his before slowly pulling back. ‘Thought you wanted to use a phone?’ There was a hint of breathlessness to her question.

  He rested his forehead against hers, fighting for control. His dick ached and wanted nothing more than to stay right where it was, pressed up against her heat. ‘Right.’ Another deep breath and he managed to let her go and step back. ‘This time, I want food.’

  The tease laughed and spun away. He followed her into yet another dive. At least this one appeared to be a step up from her previous choices. The bottles behind the bar appeared grime free, the noise level was tolerable, and the air wasn’t thick with smoke. The bartender was a middle-aged man that would fit better in a community school than a bar. Some of his tension dropped as he settled next to her at a battered, but clean table.

  Within moments thick paper menus were laid in front of them by a kid just out of his teens. ‘Hey, Charity.’

  She gave the kid one of her non-flirting smiles. ‘Hey, Max, how’s it going?’

  ‘Busy with the Faire and all, but worth it.’ Max followed the menus with two glasses of iced water.

  ‘Good tips?’

  ‘Hell, yeah.’ He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the bar. ‘Dad managed to talk Mom into investing in some of the good stuff. Want some?’ The bartender raised a hand in their direction.

  Charity wiggled her fingers back and shook her head. ‘Tell your dad we’ll pass. Hey, is your mom free?’