by Tessa Bailey
She braced herself. “When will you know the location?”
Jim didn’t look triumphant in the least, as if he’d been expecting her agreement. “Soon.”
“Ruby, you can’t be serious.” Troy turned in his seat, blue eyes blazing. “It’s obvious he’s lying to you. Don’t do this.”
“The cop is right, Rubik’s Cube,” Bowen seconded grimly. “You know I don’t admit that easily.”
“Shut it, Driscol.”
Jim leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. “Well, well. Now who’s having the pissing contest?” His countenance went hard. “She’s made her decision. Live with it, boys.”
Ruby pushed back her chair and stood, so Jim was forced to look up at her. He narrowed his eyes at the power move. “Let’s get one thing straight, Jim. I know there’s something you’re not telling me. You’re a con and I doubt you ever saw me as anything but a meal ticket. I’m agreeing because I’m curious. That’s the only reason. Not because I believe your sob story about some misplaced sense of guilt. Nice try, though, Father.”
Troy moved behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back as they walked out of Quincy’s, Bowen sauntering a few steps behind. They were still supporting her even though she’d probably just disappointed them both. She brushed a hand down Troy’s arm, letting him know she appreciated his keeping himself in check. Although Ruby knew, without a doubt, he wouldn’t give a damn about her saving face once they got home.
Chapter Four
Troy made a concerted effort not to break something, even though in his current state of mind, every inanimate object in their apartment looked like a perfect target for his fist. Goddammit, he felt helpless. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him and he didn’t handle it well. He’d known going into this relationship with Ruby that she was a wild card. Her penchant for trouble and unwillingness to see disasters in her path were traits he’d had to accept in order to keep her. Troy didn’t regret his decision for a moment, and never would. His love for Ruby intensified by the day. She consumed him. She was his life. And when he said all those months ago that he wasn’t budging, he fucking meant it. But right now, when that deep-seated fear of losing someone he loved came roaring to the surface, he wondered at his own sanity.
Last year, after losing his partner in a gun battle, meeting Ruby had been a cruel twist of fate. His vow to play it safe had been buried by his hot, clamoring need to have her. He’d never had a chance. Nor had that need even remotely faded.
He thought they’d graduated to a place where compromise had become natural. That at the very least, they would consider each other before barreling headlong into danger. Yet once again, she’d put herself in a potentially unsafe situation, without giving a thought to how it affected him. Just envisioning her in some seedy pool hall, surrounded by a dozen low-life Soprano wannabes, in all likelihood carrying weapons, made him break out in a cold sweat. Without hesitation, he would protect her with his life. But he didn’t like variables. He only dealt in certainties when it came to Ruby.
Troy watched as she removed her coat and hung it on the back of a chair. Her movements were slow, resigned, as if she’d reconciled herself to the upcoming argument. It pissed him off even more, her apparent belief that she could predict him so well. We’ll see about that, baby. She expected a lecture. She thought he would beg for the right to protect her? Fuck. That. He’d already earned the right. No discussion required.
He tossed his keys on the dining room table on his way down the hallway, stripping his shirt over his head as he went. “I’m turning in.”
She walked into their bedroom a moment later as he kicked off his shoes. “Troy?”
Something sharp moved in his chest at the smallness in her voice. With determination, he blocked the need to hold her. “Yeah.”
“Are you all right?”
“No. I’m not all right, Ruby. Did you think I would be?”
She shook her head, dark hair fanning out at her shoulders. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Why aren’t you telling me how reckless I’m being?”
“It never does me any good.”
“Stop being so cold,” she demanded. “I don’t like it. This isn’t you.”
“You don’t like it…” He trailed off with a laugh. She’d just cut the tenuous thread of faith he’d been holding on to and she expected him to be his usual supportive self? Impossible. He was free-falling into full-scale panic. Ruby in danger. Again. “I don’t like showing up to Quincy’s and seeing Driscol there, not knowing what the fuck he means to you. I don’t like sitting there listening to your father plot your next deadly adventure and keeping my mouth shut. Being so damn sure I can trust you to make the right call. And being wrong.”
She jerked back a little, making him wish for a split second that he hadn’t been so harsh. “You don’t understand.”
“Actually, I think I’m finally starting to understand. You don’t miss that lifestyle after all.” He unbuckled his jeans, kicked them off. “It’s like a bad movie. Just one last score. Only it’s never the last time. It never will be.”
Her brown eyes lit with anger then, her temper only making her more beautiful. Troy watched her in awe, pressure building in his chest. God, I love her. Happy. Livid. Any way and every way.
“Look at you on your fucking high horse, Troy Bennett. You think I’m doing this for some kind of cheap thrill?” She stomped toward him and pushed against his bare chest. He pressed into her hands, his body, as always, craving any form of contact with hers. “You’ve got your big happy family, your bosomy mother. You grew up in a perfect neighborhood, slept in a bed with clean sheets. What the hell do you know about being abandoned? About wondering if you did something wrong to send them away?”
Troy’s anger, along with his heart, sank like lead into his stomach. Jesus, no. Had he made a massive error here? After leaving Quincy’s, he’d been so caught up in his own pissed-off mental state, his own worry, that he’d completely glossed over the bombshell that had been dropped on her tonight. Fucking idiot. When she went to shove at his chest again, he grabbed her wrists and tried to bring her close, but she resisted. “Baby, I’m sorry—”
“Too late.” She yanked her hands away. “All this worry over something happening to me, it’s all because you’re so damn scared to feel an ounce of anything negative. Well, that’s all I felt for years. So deal with it, Troy. Okay? Life isn’t always sunshine and roses.”
“Of course I fucking worry.” His voice rose to match hers. “I can’t cut that part out of myself any more than I can stop loving you—”
“But you would if you could,” she cut in, her voice sounding suddenly numb. “You’d stop loving me in a heartbeat if it was possible. Just to save yourself from any potential pain or loss.” Her laughter fell on his ears like stones. “My father was right, wasn’t he? I am your heaven and hell.”
Troy could no longer stem the rising tide of panic. There was not a hint of his Ruby behind her eyes. This conversation, the entire night, had gotten away from him in a way he’d never thought possible. He’d actually forced her to question his feelings? How was such a thing possible, when he needed her just to survive? She was his life. He thought he’d left no room for her to doubt that. With firm hands, he gripped her forearms. This time she didn’t protest, but looked up at him defiantly. “Listen to me. Don’t let this, don’t let him, come between us.” He shook her gently. ”I wouldn’t stop loving you, Ruby, if it meant the end to everything else I know, love, or care about in this world. As long as I had you, I’d be all right.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, devastating him. “God, I-I can’t think around you. I’ve got so much to process, so much to think about, and you take up all the air.” She dragged in a labored breath. “I’m going to Hayden’s. I just need a night away.”
A knife in his chest. “No.”
“You can’t tell me no.”
Troy’s hand went to the hem of her shirt and slipped beneath
, as if he had no control over it. His last resort was taking over, trying to keep her with him at all costs. Her skin felt like warm silk under his fingers as they teased her belly, drifted lower. “Stay. Let me ease you here, baby. I’m nowhere without you…just let me bring you back.” Their hips connected and he rolled his body against her. “Let me go so deep that we forget everything. You know I’m hard. I’m always hard.”
“Stop,” she moaned. “Not like this.”
Trying to ignore the painful ache her words afflicted him with, he tilted her head to the side so he could suck at her neck. “What’s wrong, baby? You want to be on top?” He sank his teeth into the flesh beneath her ear. “You know I go fucking crazy when you ride me. I love watching you pretend to be in charge when we both know I could have you under me, screaming for God in one damn move.”
Ruby’s legs squeezed together and she whimpered, telling him he had her. He could lever her against the wall and fuck her for an hour straight, both of them loving every pulse-pounding minute. But the sound was layered with sadness. Disappointment. In him? Herself? No, he wouldn’t take the damage he’d done tonight and make it worse. Even if he wanted her with a desperation that shook him to his soul. With incredible difficulty, he stepped away. She dipped a little, her knees buckling, but he held her upright by his grip on her arms.
“Troy…I want you, but it hurts,” she panted, her hand rubbing at her chest. “It shouldn’t hurt.”
“Go.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Go before I change my mind.”
She studied him for a moment. “It’s just tonight. I need some space. Don’t overthink it.”
Troy nodded dumbly, watching in a dreamlike state, as the girl he loved walked out on him.
…
Brent opened the front door to the house he shared with his wife, Hayden, before Ruby even rang the bell. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, the NYPD explosives expert was so damn tall. Knowing she probably looked terrible, since she was treading in the emotional wreckage of the last few hours, Ruby rubbed the sleeve of her jacket under her eyes and laughed uncomfortably.
“Sorry. It’s not even Halloween and you’ve got something scary on your doorstep.” She gestured to her mascara-stained cheeks. “Not suitable for male company, big guy.”
Brent gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her on the back. “Hey, I’ve got a sister, a sister-in-law, two nieces, twin baby girls, and a high-maintenance wife. As long as it’s not directed at me, you can cry me a river, sweetheart.”
Hayden appeared behind him rolling her eyes, obviously having overheard her husband’s attempt to comfort, but Ruby glimpsed the underlying affection there. “It’s usually directed at him. Come in, Ruby. Story is on her way over with sangria.”
“And that’s my cue to head over to the town house,” Brent said, referring to Hayden’s posh ex-residence, the one she’d lived in before they married, but still kept for convenience. He snatched his duffel bag off the floor of the foyer. “I seriously doubt Daniel and Troy would appreciate me being the only rooster at this hen party.”
Hayden stood on her toes to give Brent a kiss. “See ya, Flo.”
“’Night, Duchess.” He winked at her. “If you ladies burn your bras, I want photographic evidence.” His attention transferred to Ruby. “Hey, whatever happened tonight, I know it was tough. But you and Troy are tougher. Capiche?”
“Capiche,” Ruby mumbled, trading places with him in the doorway. She walked into the house toward Hayden’s living room, hoping to give the couple another minute together. Part of her felt like shit for interrupting their night together—again—since Brent had already been at Quincy’s on her behalf, but mostly, she was too drained to process guilt. She dropped her purse onto the couch and plunked down next to it, observing the newly decorated interior with weary eyes. Baby toys, bouncy chairs, pink quilts. Although it was far from the first time she’d been in Hayden and Brent’s babyproofed home, after the events of the night and having her past dangled in front of her face, she felt even more out of place than usual. Upon meeting Hayden months ago, she’d been positive the class divide would eliminate the possibility of friendship. What did a girl who lived over a noodle shop in Brooklyn and an Upper West Side debutante have in common?
Shockingly, their differences had never entered into the equation. While Hayden radiated confidence, the more time Ruby spent with her, it became apparent that she didn’t always know where she fit in among her peers, either. They’d connected on that level, and Ruby’s doubts about finding common ground with a rich girl had been sunk. Now, however, staring her friend’s newfound matrimonial bliss and parenthood in the eye, she’d never felt further from connected to anyone. Anything. Had she ever had a single baby toy or quilt? She couldn’t even remember.
Hayden strode into the living room then, her steps brisk and efficient. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Look what I found outside.”
Story, Daniel Chase’s wife, followed close behind, flip-flops slapping on the wood floor, a pitcher of sangria held aloft. “I come bearing gifts of great honor.”
Ruby smiled. “Where are the other two wise men?”
“Their camels are in the shop.”
“Holding a glass pitcher of alcohol and wearing flip-flops in this cold-ass weather.” Hayden shook her head sadly. “How the hell did you get a cab to stop for you?”
Story shrugged. “I offered some sangria to the driver.”
Hayden exchanged a glance with Ruby. “Offering alcohol to your driver. So many things wrong with that, I don’t even know where to start.” She poured the red liquid into three glasses she’d retrieved from the kitchen. “But my babies are finally sleeping, so let’s just drink.”
“Amen,” Ruby agreed. “Thanks for this, guys. I know it’s late.”
“Bah.”
“Meh.”
“I know you’re probably wondering what happened. I’ll get around to it.” Ruby took a healthy sip of her drink. “Mind talking about something else for a while first?”
“Sure. I’ll go.” Story knelt in front of the coffee table, leaned forward on her elbows. “My mom is in town, spending time with Daniel Junior.” Her eyes sparkled at the mention of her newborn son. “We had dinner with my father. Daniel charmed the living crap out of everyone, as usual.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “But afterward, I’m pretty sure my mother and my father…I think they…”
“Fucked?”
“Hayden! Oh my God.” Story drained her glass of sangria in one gulp. “Not okay.”
Ruby bit her lip to keep from laughing. “What tipped you off? No pun intended.”
“Screw you both.” Story composed herself. “The next morning, they met us in the park. We were planning on checking out that exhibit at MOMA. You know the one. With that actress who’s sleeping in the glass box for a week?”
Hayden nodded once. “Yeah. Art.”
“Right. I think.” Story shook her head as if to clear it. “Anyway, I saw them get out of a cab together. Jack might have…well, he pinched my mom’s ass. Jesus, I’m going to vomit.”
Without missing a beat, Ruby dumped a bucket of toy blocks on the rug and handed Story the container.
“Hey!” Hayden protested. “My children play with that—oh, fuck it. There’s already puke everywhere.” She joined Story on the carpet. “So your parents took a little stroll down memory lane. What’s the big deal?”
Story groaned. “That’s what Daniel said.”
“He’s right. A little nooky for old time’s sake. No harm in it.”
“Speaking of parents,” Ruby blurted. “My father arranged a pool match for me. Against my uncle, who I’ve never met, but I’m pretty sure is a criminal. If I win, they’ll tell me where my mother is. She bailed when I was in diapers. I can’t even remember her face.” She took a deep breath. “I said yes. Troy is pissed as hell over me agreeing to the match. Not to mention, Bowen being there tonight.” Her head started to pound. “Also, I just walked out on him
while he was trying to seduce me.”
She looked up from her rambling speech to find her friends wide-eyed, glasses of sangria frozen halfway to their mouths.
Story cleared her throat. “Okay, so my parents fucked. No big deal.”
Hayden set her drink down carefully and looked at Ruby. “All right, let’s take this apart piece by piece. First off, if you don’t mind me asking about Bowen…?”
“Nothing there. Ever. He’s my best friend.” She massaged her forehead. “At least, he was before Troy. Now everything is so damn confusing.”
“What’s your father’s motivation for doing this?” Ruby noted that Story, usually carefree and full of easy laughter, had turned serious. She knew from past conversations that Story had studied hostage negotiation as a child to feel closer to her father, the legendary negotiator Jack Brooks. Hence, the technical question that seemed so out of place coming from the sunny blonde.
“That’s the issue. Jim has never done anything in his life unless he benefited on the other side. Troy thinks there’s more to the story.” Her throat felt tight just saying his name. What was he doing right now? “I don’t disagree with him, but I can’t walk away without trying. It’s my mother. I’ve taken bigger risks for far less reward.”
“I understand. Wanting to find your mother.” Hayden looked far off for a moment. “Troy will, too. He probably just needs some time.”
“He’ll find a way to make it safe,” Story added.
“Right. Safe.” Ruby blew out a breath. “While he’s so busy risking his neck to keep me protected, who’s going to watch out for him?”
Chapter Five
Troy didn’t look up when three shadows darkened his desk the next morning.
“Heads up, Bennett. Your princes have arrived.” Brent.
