Ruin Box Set 1-3

by Lucian Bane

  “Done,” she sang, putting the handle back in place with a loud clamor while Ruin screwed the gas cap back in place. “Very good,” she applauded, smiling up at him with one eye squinted.

  “I’m not three, Isadore.”

  She dropped her lovely jaw and slapped his chest. “I can compliment you!”

  Instinct had him catch her hand in his and the feel of her, smell of her that close, sent his body on a mission that he couldn’t possibly pursue in a parking lot at a gas station. Seeing desire flare in her eyes and cheeks didn’t help set him on the right track.

  Ruin released her. “Thank you. Now what?” He looked around, hoping they were finished and could leave.

  “Now we go pay for the gas.” She opened the truck, pulled the seat forward and shouldered a pillow-sized sack on her arm then shut the door with a bang. Linking her other arm in his, she pulled him along. The simple physical gesture shattered Ruin’s barely maintained control, leaving him in silence to direct the ice inside him to cool his body down. “We’ll get snacks and supplies while we’re at it.”

  Ruin muttered, “I like snacks.”

  She laughed as they got to the door and Ruin tensed as the guy staring her down earlier ran ahead and opened it for them.

  “Thank you,” she said, entering.

  The man stepped in behind them. “You’re very welcome.” His tone dripped with the threat of premeditated sins against Isadore causing Ruin’s judgment instincts to burst to life.

  “Move along, JD,” she whispered, pulling him through the judge him now, locking his muscles.

  “Mm-mmm,” the man muttered lustily behind them.

  Ruin turned and the moral filth ran into him, moron grooved into the lines of his forehead.

  The man gave a slow sneer. “Excuse you.”

  “JD, come on,” Isadore said, her voice hard. “Now!”

  “Yeah J . . . D . . . ” He quirked his brow.

  “You will keep your mouth closed.” Ruin watched the power in his words touch the exact part of the man’s brain and carry out the judgment. In the next millisecond, Ruin ascertained the long list of the man’s sins, his body locked and loaded with the urge to splinter every cell in his filthy body.

  The man fought to move his jaw, his black beady eyes wide with fear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ruin patted the man’s shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  He let Isadore drag him to the back of the store. “What did you do?” she hissed, peering around him at the commotion at the front of the store.

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Oh my God, you can’t just do that to people JD!”

  “Stop calling me JD,” he said, annoyed now.

  “Well I can’t exactly call you Ruin now can I?”

  “I don’t’ see why not, are you ashamed to?”

  She did several more double takes to the front of the store while gasping on unspoken words and dragging him into a small hall in the corner of the store. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing is wrong with me. Nothing different than before, I’m still the same man I was when we left your home. What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing is wrong with me, I’m not the one shutting people’s mouths because they compliment me!”

  “Compliment you?” Fury hit his blood and he leaned his face in to hers. “He wanted to rape you seven different ways, Isadore.”

  Something clicked in her head and the sudden drastic change in her attitude from cocky to fragile tore him with the urge to pull her against his body or walk off and get away from the disgusting emotion. Leaving her wasn’t an option and neither was going a second longer not feeling her.

  He pulled her against him and clutched her tight to his body. At feeling her tremble, he moved them farther into the hall, away from eyes. “Shhh,” he whispered, kissing the side of her face, holding the back of her head in his hand. “I have you, I have you.”

  The fear and tension melted from her muscles as he stroked his hand along her spine. The need to do far more had his other hand clamping down on her perfect ass. “I’m not sorry,” he whispered helplessly obeying that need in her, she needed him in that second, in that way, and he couldn’t stop. “I need you, Isadore.” His lips found her jaw and tasted quickly, his fingers burrowing in her hair to slide along her warm scalp. “I need to taste you again. I can’t stop it, I’m sorry.” But he was sorry because he couldn’t have her in that second, to bury his lips and tongue in her most protected secrets. But another tiny hot moan from her lips and he was surely going to do something she’d hate him for later. Even as his need grew, ideas raced through his head. He could hide them from eyes. He just needed to blind all of them. For a bit.

  “J-JD, we can’t…”

  He stole the foul words with his lips and commanded her desire with irrefutable strokes of his tongue, forcing her to the point of no return right there in that dark little hallway, right there against the wall with his hand on her ass and those delicate secrets forced against his leg, pressing, pressing with an urgency. Twenty more seconds and she’d climax for him, right there, her cries right in his mouth. God, he needed that. But what would that gain him in the long run? More of that strange air between them?

  The idea gave him the will to pull away but the desperate cry of need she gave drew his own agonized groan and another “I’m sorry.”

  A few awkward moments of breathless clothes straightening, purse adjusting, and hair smoothing later, and she marched through the store, loading a little blue basket hanging on her arm, with things. Food of all sorts, drinks, gadgets he recognized, nail clippers, flashlight, hair pins, ink pins, note pads; and other things he didn’t recognize. Piling, piling, piling, she piled it until it was a mountain on her arm, like her brain was stuck on reach, grab, put, reach grab put. Ruin was sure the weight of her purse on the opposite shoulder kept her from toppling over.

  Just when he was sure she’d suffered a psychotic break, she stopped, like an “enough” switch went off in her head. She made her way to the counter and Ruin helped lift the overloaded basket up for her.

  Isadore busied herself with a rack of plastic cards just on her left, then pulled at least ten different ones from it, sliding them toward the astonished Indian looking man behind the counter.

  The store had pretty much cleared out except for a few people, thankfully. Ruin searched around for the man he’d “silenced”. He sought the power he’d planted in his brain and when he located the beacon, it said he was still near. Just outside. Waiting?

  He could only hope.

  Chapter Three

  “I want two-hundred total on the cards, please.” Ruin turned his attention to Isadore who spread those various plastic rectangles on the counter. “Ten dollars on each one.”

  “Ten dollar?” the man asked.

  “Yes, ten dollars,” she nodded and moved them all around, seeming torn between keeping them at exact distances from each other and organizing them by some other order. “On each one.”

  The man got busy with the huge order and Isadore waited with arms crossed, hip cocked, foot tapping rapidly as the machine processed the man’s input. One final punch of a button and he announced, “Three hundred and twenty-four dollars and sixty-two cents.”

  Without a word, Isadore plopped her purse on the counter, unzipped it, and pulled out another smaller looking purse that reminded him of her dictionary. “I have coupons.” She flipped it open and at least twenty-five slots gaped open. Digging through the first few openings, she mumbled, “Aspirin,” then slapped a paper on the counter. Going back to peering into the small slots, she went on, “Antacids, no, don’t need those, thank God. Alka-Seltzer. Band-Aids. Oh, batteries.” She slapped another paper down and scanned her items on the counter before going back to digging. “Kleenex! I knew I had one of those.” She held it up. “So glad to finally use that thing, it’s been like a thorn in my side ever since I filed it.” She handed it to the man. “It’s just I never seem to reme
mber to use it. I’m more of a wet wipe kind of person anyway.”

  Several people had come in and stood waiting in line now.

  “Almost done, almost done.” She tossed a glance behind her with the sing-song words, scanning the four individuals before snapping back to her files while mumbling.

  The customer’s frustration filled the air until Ruin wanted to yank her out of the store. “Ah, look at that,” she splat another piece of paper down and leaned to whisper to the store clerk, “For the man with the diet drinks. I don’t need them anymore. Lost weight,” she barely mouthed the final words and Ruin suddenly wondered what she’d looked like obese. He couldn’t fathom it.

  Gradual astonishment filled Ruin as he realized how normal her behavior wasn’t. He studied the levels of negativity in the air circling him. The bulk of the data said her conduct was more inconvenient than it was odd. Not necessarily bad but . . . useless. To them. But it was her nervous mannerisms that colored for Ruin, an interesting picture. She was obsessed with the need to control things.

  He wondered if the others saw it. She’s crazy was the predominant message in the air but not a kind of crazy that warranted judgment. There was good in what she was doing, just nothing good enough to merit reward. It was a middle ground very unfamiliar to Ruin.

  When they were all done, the clerk gushed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” It was humorous as he began sliding the six bags to the edge of the counter, eager to get rid of her. Ruin latched his fingers into all of the handles.

  “Oh,” Isadore gave him an impressed look. “You got that?”

  “Yes. I have it. Lead the way.” And please hurry.

  “Yes sir, yes sir,” she muttered, fighting to get her stack of just purchased plastic cards into the side pocket of her purse as she went.

  At leaving the store, Ruin glanced right and found the man he wanted to finish off, watching from a vehicle parked at the edge of the lot.

  “Here you go.”

  Ruin turned at hearing Isadore’s cooing voice behind him and watched her hand something to a man sitting on the ground next to the store. The toothless dirty person’s eyes lit up and he nodded with a slacked jaw. Ruin made out his mouthed thank you before Isadore turned with a smile and lowered the dark windows over her eyes and walked toward the truck. Ruin put the bags on the seat between them and climbed in, looking at the man she’d just helped. Why, was the question. Why help the most wretched of all things in sight, the most unsalvageable, the most decrepit? Why not help something a little closer to . . . not dead?

  Ruin watched Isadore dig through the bags once inside the truck while keeping a peripheral eye on the dude in the vehicle. Ruin sorted through his options with the man and decided disabling his vehicle was the best thing for all parties involved. Judging him didn’t feel quite right. Like it was the wrong time. Even though many of his sins were ripe for judging, there was something at the edge of his mind that spoke of a reason to wait. Something to do with a collection. A collection of sins.

  What were the man’s sins being collected for? Another puzzle. But it was enough for Ruin to feel compelled to leave it and turn his attention back to the Isadore enigma who ripped open a bag with her teeth and fought to escape the obvious problem she was having. With him. Yes, her problem was definitely with him and he didn’t like that. Her entire irrational behavior in that store was because of him. Not that wall inside her. Him.

  Loud crunching ensued as she unscrewed the cap on a bottle and drank the red bubbly liquid as if she’d run two miles without stopping through the dessert. “Ahhhh,” she sighed, looking at him. “Aren’t you hungry?” She dug through the bags and began lifting items, “I got peanuts, chips, Vienna sausages, and I know that’s highly processed but hey, we’re on a road trip, we get to splurge.” She tossed a dark rectangle pack at him with the word M&M on it. “Try those, I think you’ll love them. Plain heavenly chocolate with cancer causing colors.” She put her hand on the key, eyes on the windshield. “Oh.”

  She hopped out and proceeded to slide a wet sponge on a stick all over her side of the windshield then flipped it and slid it again, removing the water and soap. She repeated the process on his side and he realized how dirty the glass was when he could see clearly through it.

  “That’s much better,” she climbed in and started the truck.

  “Why are you wearing those, it’s not that bright in here.”

  “What, my shades? It’s bright to me. You don’t like my shades?” She sounded shocked.

  “I don’t like not seeing your eyes.”

  She gave him a smile that reminded him of everything he really needed not to think about until he dealt with that wall. “You like my eyes?” She kept that irresistible smile as she drove with gusto out of the parking lot. Flowers and funerals popped into his mind when she skidded to a stop just before slamming into a passing vehicle.

  “Yeah, can I drive?”

  “What? Why?” She popped the clutch and the truck darted out onto the paved road.

  “I just want to drive, I need to learn.”

  She laughed a little and shook her head.

  “Come on, you can do it.”

  “I can do it?”

  “Yes, you can trust me.”

  “Trust you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you’ve never driven?”

  “You know I learn fast. I haven’t even driven and already I can drive better than you.”

  She choked out a laugh.

  “I’ll prove it to you, pull over.”

  “No, I’m not pulling over! I’m a great damn driver!”

  “Watch it!”

  Isadore jerked the wheel and narrowly missed a head on collision. “You did that! Stop talking to me while I drive!”

  “Pull over.”

  Isadore slammed the brakes and bags hit the floor. She gasped as she pulled off the side of the road. “You’re making me!”

  “Yes, I am. I don’t feel like dying before I do whatever it is I’m supposed to do on this planet.”

  “You cannot just do that JD!”

  “Don’t call me that or you’ll find your tongue obediently sealed to the roof of that pretty mouth of yours.”

  Another gasp. “I don’t know who or what you think you are, an-an, a supernatural being—”

  “Oh, I’ve been demoted.”

  “Demoted? What—”

  “You were about to call me an angel then changed your mind. You said an-an then went with ‘a’ because supernatural doesn’t go with ‘an’ like ‘angel’. And by your jealous God, do not lie to me.” Ruin got out of the truck and headed to the drivers side. He opened her door and she sat there with her jaw hanging still, and oddly enough, Ruin’s body recalled her mouth in that position when he sucked her pretty clit. He let out a gasp and lowered his head, amazed with the amount of heat the thought slammed him with.

  “Move over Isadore.”

  “Or what?”

  Power rippled through him as he brought his gaze up. Harness it. “Isadore?”

  Her jaw clamped shut and she yanked her shades off and let him see her eyes, see how angry she was. He’d be glad when she remembered what a fucking turn on that was with him. Oh wait. She did remember. And was provoking him.

  He jabbed a finger at her. “You are begging me take your clothes off and open those pretty legs and bury my mouth between your perfect lips, aren’t you?”

  Shock, fear, and desire replaced her anger and Ruin nodded at seeing it, satisfied with that correct reaction. She scooted over quickly. “This is like rape you know,” she hissed. “Forcing people to do things is wrong.”

  “Yeah?” Ruin climbed into the vehicle, oddly familiar with the feel as he shut the door and put on his seat belt. “I’ll remember that next time I force some bastard to stop hurting you.”

  “Now, that is different!”

  “How?”

  “This is not life and death!”

  He angled a humored look at her.

  “Y
ou distracted me!”

  “You’re reckless. Now put your seat belt on.” Ruin checked his mirrors and waited for her to obey then tore out.

  “Ohhhh my God, I’m reckless?” she shrilled, holding on to the door.

  “Yes, you are. This is me going the speed limit.”

  “In five seconds?!”

  “It doesn’t say how long you have to take to get to that speed.”

  “It’s not safe!”

  “Isadore, I’m sorry for making you stop but you shouldn’t be behind a wheel in your condition.”

  Her rage kicked in and it hit Ruin’s cock with a painful throb. “What condition!”

  He tapped his temple. “Your wall sweetheart.”

  “Do not call me that you motherfucker! That is not a condition that is… that is… not a condition.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Probably you.”

  “Me? God you’re killing me, stop.”

  “I’m killing you? You’re eyeballs have walls in them, not my brain!” she rapped a finger on her temple.

  “Isadore, I’m telling you, warning you, your anger is too much for me.” Ruin quickly rolled down his window to get away from the smell of her fury. When had it become the greatest weakness linked to his cock?

  “My anger is too much for you?”

  “Stop repeating me and calm down.”

  “I will not fucking calm down, how about you stop this damn truck now, I’m not going another fucking kilometer with your ass.”

  Ruin slammed the breaks, sending bags flying to the floorboard again. He pulled off the road, undid his seat belt, and pulled Isadore to him by the legs. “Take off your fucking clothes, now.”

  Chapter Four

  The power in him made his voice shudder and the whimper of need that escaped her made him dizzy.

  “Ruin, we can’t . . . ”

  “You need to orgasm on my finger, Isadore. Take. Your clothes. Off.” He struggled hard not to allow his power into the words that would force her. He wouldn’t force her in that.

  “You’re—”