by Freya Barker
“And it’s gotta get done today, Son, so get your ass out of bed.”
Ruby stifles a giggle against my chest.
“You want to come, Boop? Spend the day watching a bunch of men swearing and getting sweaty over a pile of free wood?” I ask her, watching as her head lifts and eyes light up.
“I have to work,” she whispers, a little disappointed by the way her face drops. “Dino’s off tonight.”
“Who the blazes are you talking to? Who’s Boop? You got a dog?” My father’s voice blusters, setting Ruby’s giggles off again.
“Dad! Inside voice, please!” Christ, my head’s already starting to pound. “Too bad,” he says to me.
“Honey?”
Oh great, now Mom’s on the phone. “Hey, Mom.”
“You got a dog?” She’d obviously been listening to Dad’s side of the conversation, and not unexpected, decided to take over.
“No, Mom, no dog.”
“But your father said you were talking to someone?” she persists, and I choose not to respond, letting the silence do the talking. It doesn’t take long. “Oh...oh...ohhhh,” she finally stammers before continuing in an excited whisper. “Do I know her?”
Not ready for a parental inquisition, especially with Ruby making moves to escape me again, I cut my mother off at the pass.
“No you don’t, Mom. Can you put Dad back on again? The barn?” I helpfully add.
“Yes, yes of course. But, honey? I’m making pot roast tomorrow. Enough for an orphanage.” Subtle, my mother is not.
“I’ll keep it in mind, Mom,” I reply, my eyes on Ruby’s face, which has gone beet red. She heard, and she understands, what was implied too, judging by the panic in her eyes.
With my father back on the phone, I make quick arrangements for him to round up my brother, and assure him, I’ll try to get at least another body along to help. Maybe one of my baseball mates. Ike might be game.
“Dad, I’ve gotta go,” I interrupt my Dad’s ongoing ramble. “I’ll be there in thirty. Let me make some calls.”
“Later, Son. Say bye to the girl.” With a roll of my eyes, I end the call, turning back to Ruby, who has her hands covering her face, mumbling behind it.
“Ohmigod, Madre de Dios.” I hear the moment I pull her hand away from her mouth. I could say something to calm her down, but there’s a much better way to silence her. Taking advantage of her moving lips, I cover her mouth with mine, and slide my tongue inside. She only struggles for a few seconds before she gives in on a big sigh, curling her hands behind my head.
Moments later I pull away, out of breath. The woman has no idea the power she wields. One soft touch of her lips is like a spark to a powder keg: explosive. Unfortunately, given my unexpected change in schedule, I don’t have time to let it burn the way I’d like.
“I seem to be saying this a lot, but if I don’t stop now...That barn wood, you heard my dad mention, would save us a fortune in expenses if we had to buy it from a salvager,” I explain, but she puts her fingers on my lips.
“Go,” she urges with a smile. “Go chase your dream.”
Not quite sure how the fuck I got so lucky, I waste a little more time showing her my appreciation.
Thirty minutes after that, I drop her off at her apartment building, with a hard kiss to her mouth, and the promise I’ll see her tonight.
Ruby
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Dino’s large hand lands on my shoulder. He’s been dawdling in the kitchen for at least ten minutes and his phone has rung three times already.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassure him. Again. “If I run into trouble, I promise I’ll get Viv.” Granted. Last time I took over the kitchen by myself had admittedly been pretty disastrous. I can’t blame him for being a tad apprehensive.
With just a nod, he finally grabs his coat off the hook and shrugs it on. His face is drawn, haggard, and his movements are jerky. Without thinking I put my hand on his arm. “Is everything okay with you?” His eyes snap my way, and for a moment, they show a deep turmoil before he blinks it away.
“It will be,” he says gruffly. “It has to be.” The last is said on a whisper and I almost missed it.
“If there’s anything I can do...” The rest of my words disappear in his thick winter coat as he pulls me into his chest.
“What you can do is stop running. Let the people who care about you help. Let them in.” His voice is ragged, as he all of a sudden releases me and walks out the door without looking back.
I watch him go with a heavy heart before turning back to the stove.
“Hey. Viv said I could find you here.” I turn to find Pam walking into the kitchen.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good. Frozen. It’s cold out and the snow is really starting to come down,” she says, as she shakes out her coat. “Was that Dino just leaving?” she asks, tilting her head in the direction of the back door.
“Yes,” I confirm, as I make a split second decision. “And Pam? There’s something really wrong with him.” Her eyebrows shoot up as she pulls out a chair at the table.
“How so?”
In between getting orders ready, I give Pam a description of the things I’ve observed. Do I feel guilty talking about someone who’s become a friend? Sure, but I’m also concerned about him and know Pam is better equipped to help people than I am.
“I’ll see if he’ll talk to me. Lord knows, the man’s knuckle dragging, alpha antics drive me up the wall, and he may well wipe the floor with me, but I’ll give it a go. Now,” she says straightening in her seat. “I came in here to find out how you were doing. I haven’t seen you all week.” I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face and Pam clearly does not miss a thing. “It’s like that, is it?” she says, the corners of her mouth lifting.
I start catching her up, skirting around a lot of the details, but she keeps looking at me with that one eyebrow raised high. She prompts me with, “And?” every time I take a breath, until finally I crack.
“Okay, fine. I had an orgasm,” I blurt out way too loud, giving the big pot on the stove a good stir, too embarrassed to look at her.
“Oh my God, my ears! I’ll never recover.”
I swing around and look straight into Matt’s horrified face. “Madre de Dios!”
“No shit, Sherlock. I come in here for a damn bowl of chili, and I’m slapped with an orgasm,” Matt rambles, as he turns on his heels and walks straight back out the door.
In shock, I look at Pam who is trying, and failing, to contain her deep, rolling laugh.
-
“Ruby?”
I can’t help the deep sigh of relief that escapes me when I hear the voice on the line. By the time I left The Skipper last night, I was trudging through snow already up to my ankles. There’d been no sign or sound from Tim. Although I knew it was possible he’d be home late, the weather had been cause for concern. It was coming down something fierce and wasn’t expected to let up until sometime Sunday evening. When midnight came, and I was still waiting by the phone for a call, I’d had enough. Who knows what is normal in a situation like this? It’s not like I have any experience being in a relationship. If that is what this is. I’m not even sure.
Frustrated and worried, I ended up going to bed, where it took forever to fall asleep.
Starting at ten this morning, I tried not to dwell on the fact I’d still not heard anything and went through my regular routine. The walk across to the wharf was even more treacherous than last night, even in daylight, I couldn’t see a hand in front of my face. Snow was coming in sideways and strong gusts of wind swirled it around. My old boots were no match and my socks were soaked in minutes.
I’d barely gotten in the back door when the phone rang.
“Are you okay?” I blurt out the minute I hear Tim’s voice.
“I’m fine,” he chuckles, which somehow irritates me. He was fine, and I’d just spent half the night rolling around in bed, worried sick. “We
ended up stopping at a roadside motel for the night, the snow was ridiculous. We’re just grabbing a bite and then we’ll be back on the road. Hopefully, plows have gone through, although it’s still coming down.” He must’ve noticed my silence, because he’s suddenly quiet too. “Ruby? I’m sorry if you were worried. I tried calling late last night, but there was no answer. I was going to try again in five minutes, but I ended up crashing.”
“It’s okay,” I placate him. I realize, he probably called when I was trudging home through the snow. But he’s not buying it.
“No, it’s not. Fuck, honey, I’m really sorry,” he says, and he sounds it. “Look, it’s going to take hours for us to get home in this weather, and then we’ll have to unload, but I’ll come see you as soon as I’m done.”
“Really, it’s okay,” I assure him. Now I feel bad about making him feel bad.
“Ruby.” He sounds firm. “I’ll see you sometime this afternoon.”
I don’t get a chance to say anything because he’s already gone.
-
“Excuse me?”
The snow had stopped around noon, letting a watery sun peek through every now and then. Gunnar had shown up shortly after I talked to Tim and was surprised to see me. He said he’d told Viv to stay home and that he was considering shutting down for the day. Then Dino walked in, and shortly after that Matt. Instead of sending everyone home, he suggested using the time to catch up on inventory, organizing, and give the place a thorough cleaning.
That’s what I’m doing. Pulling bottles and glasses down behind the bar and giving the shelves a good wash and swinging my hips to the oldies rock Gunnar had been playing all morning. I’ve already cleaned out the three small fridges that held the bottled import beers, some wines, and a few other things. Other than a couple of my neighbors from across the street, who came in hoping for a bite, it has been quiet. So the voice startles me and I swing around.
A tall man, about my age, with dark hair showing streaks of grey, is eyeing me top to toe from the other side of the bar. Something about him is familiar, but I can’t place it. All I know is his intense scrutiny is making me feel decidedly uncomfortable, and my eyes scan the bar to see where Matt is. Then I remember he went into the storage room to count bottles there. Dino is in the kitchen working on the pantry, and Gunnar is in his office. It’s just me.
Fighting down my unease, I wipe my hands on a towel and plaster on a friendly smile. “Hi there. Can I get you anything?”
“Nice place,” he says, looking around without answering me. “Didn’t know it was here until a friend told me about it. Easy to miss if you don’t know where to look.”
The conversation feels all wrong as chills roll down my back. “Did you want to see a menu?” I try again, throwing a furtive glance toward the back hallway, in hopes one of the guys will show their face.
“You’ve come up in the world since I saw you last, Abril.”
His use of my birth name freezes the breath in my lungs, and suddenly I know where I’ve seen him before. Club Innosins, heading into Carlos’ office as I was coming out of the bathroom, only days before I ran from Boston like I had the devil on my heels. He was with a second man. Now that man I would’ve recognized in a heartbeat. I saw him days later, from behind a pile of pallets in a warehouse, and then again parked out front of the police station where I’d just given witness against him. Eduardo Lima.
“Ah, I see you recognize me. I was afraid of that,” he says in a low voice. “You understand I can’t risk leaving you. Loose ends and all that.” He waves his hand casually. “If you quietly walk out with me, Abril, nothing will happen to your friends or this quaint pub. It would be a shame,” he says, looking around the pub again. “Old structure like this, it wouldn’t take much to bring it down. Perhaps an unfortunate kitchen mishap?”
The air that was stuck in my chest expels in a rush, as if I’m punched in the stomach. A deep groan involuntarily escapes as I think of my friends hurt, of this place that’s become more like home these past months, destroyed. Despite the fact I want to run for help, fear for my new found family has me grounded to the spot. As if in slow motion, the man raises his hand and crooks his finger at me. My feet start moving before my mind has a chance to clue in.
I just step from behind the bar, throwing a last look at the empty hallway, when his hand snakes out and hauls me close by the neck. “Don’t even think about it,” he hisses in my ear.
A deep sadness settles in my chest when I meekly walk along beside him to the door.
“Hey, Ruby? Can you give me a quick hand?”
Gunnar’s voice sounds behind me, just as the door in front of me opens, and Tim and his brother walk in. The hand in my neck squeezes in warning right before he forcefully shoves me in the path of the two men rushing forward. With nothing to stop the momentum, I fly forward and crash into them, before knocking into something and then hitting the floor. Hard. An involuntary cry escapes me as I feel something give way and feel instant hot pain blast my right side.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tim
It had been a pretty grueling drive, coming back from Freyburg. The trip, normally a little over an hour, had ground to a halt last night about twenty miles in. The roads had been bad, but worse was the lack of visibility. You couldn’t see where the road ended and the ditch began. Twice we’d barely been able to dig ourselves out of a drift on the side, when Ike spotted the brightly lit sign for an Econolodge through the snow. No one argued as I pulled onto the empty parking lot. It had been a fucking exhausting and very long day already, and driving home in this shit required a sharp head. Besides, Dad had worried me a bit, not wanting to give an inch to us younger guys, he’d worked his ass off all day. His breathing was still a bit choppy, though, even after we forced him to sit out while we loaded as much as we could of the wood on the truck and stacked the rest for pick up later in the week.
Since the snow had still been coming down steadily this morning, we didn’t bother hurrying out. Made more sense to grab a shower, even if it meant having to get back in yesterday’s dirty clothes, and grabbing a bit of breakfast, while hopefully the plows were out there doing their job. Still it took us a couple of hours to get home, where we first drop off Dad, before heading to my place to unload.
I haven’t been able to get Ruby out of my mind all morning. It sucks to think she’d worried last night while I was out cold, snoring away. I just dropped Ike off at home and had planned to drop Mark at my parents before heading to the pub, but I can’t wait.
“You mind hitting The Skipper first? Before I drop you off?” I ask my brother.
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
I look at him, surprised at his reaction. “Am I sure what is wise, exactly?” My sharp retort is met with a firm set of his jaw.
“Do you even know what you’re getting into? A woman with a history like that?”
Slamming my foot on the brake and coming to a stop at the curb, I turn my entire body to face him. “And what do you know of her history, huh? Do you really think that was some life-choice for her? Ending up where she did? She was branded, you bastard! At fourteen fucking years old, she was taken and branded like fucking cattle. I don’t even know the full story yet, but it doesn’t matter to me. None of that fucking matters to me. I’m disgusted that it would matter...” With a cutting motion of his hand, Mark cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. Anger is etched on his face.
“Shut up, you idiot. Has it occurred to you that I’m worried about you?” With erratic movements he runs his hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ. The woman is a witness to a murder, Tim. She was associated with one of Boston’s most renowned sex trade organizations. Saw one of it’s main players get killed. And is apparently on the radar of some less than law abiding members of the police force. You think I’m worried because she turned tricks?” He underlines his words with a frustrated groan as he leans his head back and closes his eyes. Stumped by his outburst, I only grunt in respon
se. I understand where he’s coming from, but part of me still rebels at the thought that Ruby would have to be tainted by something that happened to her. Something out of her control from the very beginning.
“You care for her.” The statement is delivered with a hint of disbelief in his voice, but his conclusion is on the money. Fuck, yes, I care for her. Truth be told, the depth of it surprises me as much as it apparently does him.
“I do.”
“Shit,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, man. It’s just, she’s so different from your usual fare.” It takes everything out of me not to take a swing at him after all. Instead, I white knuckle my hands on the wheel and grind my teeth.
“She is different,” I manage, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “She’s more.” I can feel his eyes on me but keep my focus on the snow bank on the side of the road.
“Right,” is all he says.
“Right. So are we done with this now?” I want to make sure.
“All done. The Skipper it is.”
-
There are only a handful of cars in the parking lot, which remains still covered in snow. Not a surprise really, even with the sky clearing, it’s still a mess everywhere. You’d be nuts to go out if you don’t absolutely have to.
Locking the truck, I slog through the snow behind my brother, who stops when we pass a dark sedan in the lot. Crouching down, he wipes some of the sludge of the rear bumper, revealing a BPD, Boston’s Finest sticker. I get an uneasy feeling as I look down the alley toward the pub and start walking in that direction. Mark is not far behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
