by Tessa Bailey
“Is he ignoring us?” Daniel.
“Looks that way.” And fuck, they’d brought Matt along. Known among them as the Relationship Whisperer. The ex–military sniper rarely spoke, but when he decided to grace them with his patient philosophical observations, it tended to knock a man on his ass. The truth could do that. As if he hadn’t been Yoda-esque before, ever since he’d married Brent’s younger sister, Lucy, his penchant for telling the truth had only increased tenfold. Troy had been subjected to more than enough truth for one twenty-four-hour period, so he held up his middle finger hoping they’d all take the hint and leave him the hell alone.
“Maybe later. If Hayden says it’s okay,” Brent responded jovially to his silent fuck you.
Daniel sighed, shooting Brent a look. “Start talking, Troy, or we’ll sic Matt on you.”
Troy punched a series of codes into his computer to get him into the department database. “Matt, what did they promise you in exchange for sitting through this?”
“Two days free of them oversharing about their wives. And an indefinite hiatus from hearing every single detail of their children’s sleeping and eating schedules.”
Like him and Ruby, Matt and Lucy weren’t quite as ready to dive into diaper duty as their friends. They seemed more than happy to bask in their newlywed status for the moment.
“Look, I’m going to get the story out of my wife sooner or later,” Daniel tried again, ignoring Matt’s deadpan explanation. “She’s ticklish.”
Matt sipped his mug of coffee. “And hiatus over.”
Troy leaned back in his chair, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Ruby’s father wants her to play one last match against her lowlife uncle. She wins, uncle hands over her long-gone¸ deadbeat mother’s whereabouts.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”
“Exactly. He swears it’s a parting gift. An apology for not being father of the year.”
“Bullshit,” Brent said.
Matt set his mug down carefully. “But you’re pissed, so I’m assuming Ruby accepted the match.”
Troy confirmed with a nod.
“Shit,” all three men said at the same time.
A moment of silence passed, broken by Daniel clearing his throat. “Look, I’m not saying she should have accepted the risk, but I understand. Wanting to know your mother and where you came from.”
Troy absorbed that, but since he’d already spent the night mentally berating himself for not understanding Ruby’s decision, it made little difference. Daniel had been a foster child, so of course it made immediate sense to him, proving her words from last night correct. Thanks to his ideal upbringing, he wasn’t able to fully comprehend her decision.
Matt zeroed in on Daniel, picking up on the subtlest of undercurrents as usual. “The way you said that…have you looked into your birth parents?”
Daniel didn’t appear surprised at Matt’s question. They were never surprised anymore when he picked up on something they thought well-hidden. “Yeah. I mean, just preliminary stuff. Filing papers…reaching out, I guess you would say.”
“Does Story know?” Troy asked.
“Not yet,” Daniel answered, looking contrite. “I don’t want her getting her hopes up for me. You know how she is.” He shrugged. “It never mattered before…who my parents were. But I want to know everything now. Medical history, especially. We’ve got our son to think about now. Hopefully another son or daughter somewhere down the road.” Daniel cleared his throat. “Okay, now. I basically can’t get Story pregnant fast enough.”
Brent looked smug. “Someone is jealous of my twins.”
“None of you say a damn thing to her,” Daniel warned while shooting Brent the bird. “I just bought her a puppy to ease her into the idea of more kids.”
“What kind of puppy did you get?” Brent crossed his arms over his barrel-sized chest. “It better not be one of those bullshit Chihuahuas, bro. I’ll lose all respect for you.”
“Oh, did I actually have your respect at some point?”
Matt’s loud exhale quieted the pair. “Can we get back to the problem at hand? Not that this domestic detour hasn’t been riveting.”
“I’ve already explained the problem.” Troy plucked a handful of papers from his printer, laying them on the desk. “And I’ve been working on the solution. Ruby isn’t in possession of her birth certificate. But last night Jim mentioned the uncle, Robert Bell. I’m working on narrowing it down by finding him, then searching for siblings. Problem is, the name Robert Bell is so goddamn common.”
“You’re trying to find her mother before the match,” Matt deduced. “So it won’t be necessary.”
“Right.”
Daniel took one of the printouts. “Jesus. Hundreds in New York and New Jersey alone. Let’s split it up three ways. We’ll take turns putting surveillance on Jim Elliott. He could end up leading us to the guy’s doorstep.”
“No. I didn’t ask for your help.” Troy shook his head determinedly. “This isn’t an official investigation and I’m not dragging you guys into it. You’ve got your own shit going on.”
“True.” Brent snatched up his own list. “But nothing to prevent us from keeping Ruby safe. If you recall, she put her ass on the line for us once,” he reminded them, referring to the reckless move she’d made to protect Troy, placing herself at risk to locate their suspect’s whereabouts. A situation eerily similar to the last twenty-four hours. “I’d like to return the favor.”
“Don’t ever mention her ass again. Or returning the favor.”
Brent winked. “Message received, Mr. Sensitive.”
When Brent and Daniel walked away, still arguing over dog breeds, Matt nudged the remaining list in Troy’s direction. “I’ll take the first shift on Elliott. You should go see Ruby and get your head straight. Not the wisest move going searching for her father when the two of you are arguing. You could end up doing something you regret.”
“She left.” Troy pretended to be engrossed in something on his computer screen. “She hasn’t done that since our first week together.”
“She’s scared. People who are used to fear…sometimes they would rather exist inside that fear without the benefit of comfort. It’s a familiar place and it gives them an excuse to alienate the people closest to them. To rely solely on themselves.” He looked across the bustling station. “She probably feels worse than you do for leaving. Go see her.”
“I will.” He thought of her tear-heavy eyes as she’d left their apartment last night. Pushing too soon could push her away. “When it’s time.”
…
Ruby left the workshop just as the sun started to set, beginning her twenty-minute trek across town to get home. Something stopped her at the subway entrance, when she normally would have walked right past. Fingers curled around the strap of her messenger bag, she stood watching rush-hour commuters descend the stairs leading underground, on their way to Brooklyn. She wasn’t ready to go home to Troy on the Upper East Side just yet. Their argument the night before still felt fresh, and frankly, she’d been too busy today to sort through her emotions. Or maybe she’d just been avoiding them. Either way, she needed more time.
Without giving herself a chance to reconsider, she joined the moving mass of people, swiped her MetroCard, and boarded the train toward her old neighborhood. The routine felt so familiar, yet incredibly different. Looking at her reflection in the sliding doors, she realized how much she’d changed. No pool stick strapped to her back. The trademark belligerent expression that had defined her seemed to have faded, too. She’d changed for the better, but she suspected if emotional baggage were a visible trait, it would still sit squarely on her shoulders.
When the train pulled into the Grand Army Plaza stop, she ducked under the arms of passengers holding on to the overhead bar for balance and stepped into the bustling station. A few short minutes later, she found herself across the street from her old apartment above the noodle shop. She must have been subconsciously heading there, b
ut couldn’t decide why. Perhaps she needed a reminder of how far she’d come, remind herself what was at stake. Maybe she just needed to be somewhere familiar, to ground herself now that everything was spinning out of control again.
“You must be lost.” Another familiar voice. “The Upper East Side is back that way. Just follow the trail of Pilates instructors and Botox needles.”
She laughed for the first time that day. “What are you doing here, Bowen?”
“Some of us still live here, Rhubarb Pie.”
“Right.” As if on cue, they both leaned back against the stacks of newspapers on display outside the bodega. Ruby looked back across the street at her first permanent home, but she could feel Bowen’s eyes on her. “What?”
He took off his ball cap, ran a hand through his mane of dark blond hair, and replaced it. “Troy know you’re out here?”
“I don’t want to talk about him right now.”
“That’s a no.”
Ruby sighed. There was a time when she told Bowen everything, but it didn’t feel right talking to him about Troy. It would feel like a betrayal of confidence, especially when Troy had never felt comfortable with them spending time together. “So are you going to give me shit about accepting the match, too? That’s not why I came out here.”
“Why did you come here?”
“Hell if I know.” They laughed silently until Ruby grew serious once more. “You know what it’s like…growing up without a mom. Wouldn’t you jump at the chance to find out?”
Bowen shifted and looked away. “I don’t know. Where we come from, some things are better left staying a secret.”
“Curiosity killed the cat?”
He hummed in his throat. “Look, I know you’re getting it from all sides, so I’m only going to say this once.” His warm hand, knuckles covered in bruises, lay down on top of hers. “Don’t do it. If you agreed just to be stubborn, to show your father you’re not scared, swallow that pride and back out.”
She ripped her hand from beneath his. “You think you know me so damn well?” Even as she asked the question, she knew it was absurd. He knew her better than almost anyone.
A flicker of insecurity crossed his features. “Maybe not anymore. But I know all about how pointless it is trying to impress a father. They’re numb, Ruby. They don’t feel a goddamn thing.”
His words felt like a blow. “That’s not what this is about.”
“Fine.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped one into his hand. “Subject closed.”
Ruby struggled to put out a flicker of guilt, but didn’t want to dwell on the subject. Her mind was made up. “How are things going for you here? With your father away.”
He took his time lighting the cigarette, then met her eyes, smoke curling around his lips. “Bad.”
A pit formed in her stomach. “Are you…running things now?” Bowen didn’t answer her, just continued blowing streams of smoke into the cool evening air, all but confirming her suspicion. Her actions of last year had helped the NYPD put Lenny Driscol, Bowen’s father and South Brooklyn’s notorious mob boss, behind bars on numerous charges, including her own attempted murder. Obviously, Bowen had been a victim of the fallout. Oh God, no. “I-is there anything I can do to help?”
Bowen shook his head. “Just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?” He threw an arm around her shoulders, pulled her up against his side. “I don’t know why we worry about each other at all,” he said on an exhale. “We’re survivors. We’ll just keep coming back for more.”
Ruby started to press, to tell him for the hundredth time that if they worked together, they could pull him out of the lifestyle, but something caught her eye. A police car pulled to a stop across the street. Not an unusual occurrence in this neighborhood, but she’d recognize the silhouette of the driver anywhere. Without thinking, she pulled away from Bowen, just as Troy exited the vehicle and slammed the door behind him.
Even in the near-darkness, she could see his features were tight, his fists bunched at his sides as he crossed the street. On autopilot, she stood and moved in front of Bowen.
“Don’t even think about fighting with him,” she warned him over her shoulder.
“If he calls me out, Ruby, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
She cursed. “Troy—”
“Get out of the way.”
Ruby pressed a hand to his hard chest, feeling a frisson of alarm at the cold expression on his face. “You need to stop and listen.”
Troy completely ignored her. “Let’s go, Driscol. Unless you’re planning on hiding behind her all night.”
Bowen immediately skirted past her, stripping off his jacket. “Sorry, Ruby. Tried my best. Is he left-handed or right?”
Christ, the jerk sounded almost chipper. “Stop this, now.” Keeping her hold on Troy, she tried to push Bowen back. “Troy, we were just talking. You’re being—”
“I’m being what?” His attention snapped to her. Words failed her in the face of his anger. “Jealous? I’ve never pretended otherwise. I’ve never been even remotely okay with this and I just found you glued together on the street corner.” He shook his head. “You had to know this was inevitable.”
“He’s right,” Bowen piped up behind her. “Let him get his shot at me. I’ve been wondering if he can protect you as well as he claims.” He tossed his ball cap on the pavement. “Time to find out.”
Teeth bared, Troy yanked her hand off his chest and pulled her behind his back. “Don’t interfere.”
Ruby lifted her hands and let them fall. “You know what? Go ahead and beat each other to a bloody pulp. Maybe it’ll dislodge your heads from your asses.”
There was no stopping it, she realized in a daze. The moment Troy reached her best friend, he reared back with a right hook and blasted Bowen square in the jaw. Bowen, looking momentarily stunned, staggered back, then lunged forward to tackle Troy down to the pavement where they traded a series of punches. They exchanged the upper hand several times as people gathered on the sidewalk to watch the fight, a couple of neighborhood lifers even nodding as if impressed. Ruby had never seen Troy fight, but Bowen, a street fighter since his early teens, had clearly met his match. Troy was relentless, never pausing in his assault, even as Bowen battled back. When she saw blood trickling into Bowen’s eye from a nasty cut, she forced herself between them. With his vision obscured, it would no longer be fair and she was tired of people being hurt because of her. She shoved with all her might to break them apart. Both of them backed off a little, presumably afraid they might accidentally hit her.
“That’s enough, Troy. You’ve made your point.”
Bowen swiped a hand across his mouth and laughed when he saw blood. “No one’s made me bleed in a while. Not bad. You’re still an asshole.”
Troy licked his split lip. “I’ll do worse if you ever touch her again.”
Ruby’s temper finally went through the roof. In that moment, it felt as though she’d lost her hard-won independence. These two men, whom she admittedly loved in very different ways, thought they could control her actions. They thought she needed protecting from herself, from everything. And she’d had enough. She was tired of having her judgment questioned.
“Well, I’m glad you two shitheads feel better.” She backed away from them slowly. “But I, for one, am done here.”
Troy’s expression turned wary. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t look at you right now.”
“Ruby, listen—”
“I should listen to you now?” Her voice was incredulous. “After you completely ignored me and went straight for my best friend’s throat?” She suddenly couldn’t care less who was within earshot, the words spilling from her mouth in a choked whisper. “You’re taking the control I give you in bed and letting it spread too far. Rein it in or we’re done.”
“Way more than I needed to hear,” Bowen grumbled behind her.
Troy’s eyebrows had risen
at her words.
“What?” Her throat felt tight, tears burning behind her eyes. She interpreted the surprise on his face to mean only one thing. He didn’t trust her around Bowen. Possibly never had. “Does it surprise you that I would mention our sex life in front of Bowen? Why?”
He took a step toward her, eyes narrowed as if trying to discern her point. “Let’s go home and talk. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”
Her laughter sounded slightly hysterical. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
A flare of alarm crossed his features. “You said one night. One.”
“Well, I changed my damn mind.” She split a look between them. “I can do that. I’m allowed. I’m also allowed to tell you both to back off. Thank you for your concern, but I don’t need protecting every moment of every day. You do me a disservice by acting otherwise.”
Bowen shifted on his feet. “Jesus, Ruby—”
“Why were you really here, Bowen? You live two stops away.” She blurted before the realization had fully formed, “Were you following me?”
He stayed silent a moment. “Look, I’m sorry. With Jim around…”
“And you?” Without waiting for him to finish, she transferred her irritation to Troy. “Just happened to be in the neighborhood?”
Troy said nothing, but she saw the answer in his eyes. Just like always, he’d taken matters into his own hands without consulting her. She’d seen it coming, but it still rankled. Without another word, she spun on her heel and headed toward the subway at a fast clip. Before she could descend the stairs, Troy grabbed her arm, slowing her.
“You shut me out. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Me either, apparently.” She pulled her arm free. “I won’t live my life under surveillance.”
He stared at her hard, conflict written all over his features. “I can’t take the chance.”
“Even if it means losing me?”
“Don’t say that,” he grated, voice shaking with intensity.
Troy tried to pull her close, but she evaded him. “Answer me. Will you insist on treating me like I’m breakable even if it means losing me?”
