by Em Petrova
Unless she had another source of income, and the bar was only a front.
He’d also learned other things about Ruby…such as the sway of her hips that showed up in his dreams last night. And how she tucked a corner of her mouth in when she was thinking.
Most telling of all was her reaction to the bouncer who “worked” for her. She kept an eye on him at all times, pivoting her body to keep a better view of his position in the bar or restaurant.
Gasper’s radar was pinging.
When Shadow walked over to join him at the sink, his eyes were bloodshot from the soap episode. Gasper chuckled through a rinse and spit. “It’s not the Ritz-Carlton.”
“Thanks for saving my eyesight. It felt like I had gasoline in my eyes.”
“You’d do the same for me. I’m going in search of coffee.”
“If their coffee’s as warm as their showers, maybe you shouldn’t bother.”
Gasper stuffed his damp towel and toothbrush into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s hope you’re not right. Hot coffee’s the only thing keeping me on my feet right now. That and the prospect of a few painkillers. Sleeping on that seat was hell.”
“Seems as if we’ll have another night of it too, unless some miracle happens and we find what we’re here for.” Shadow stuffed the toothbrush in his mouth, cutting off more conversation.
Gasper strolled out of the shower room in search of steaming coffee and the rest of his team. He found a pot of coffee that looked as black as coal and had probably sat there all night. His team regrouped outside. A few of them held energy drinks, but nobody had a cup of coffee.
Broshears shot him a grin. “Knew you’d be the only person brave enough to test that coffee.”
Gasper lifted the paper cup in a toast and took a sip. Everyone watched his face. Lowering the cup, he said, “Damn. It tastes like it was percolated through Winston’s sock.” He took off the lid and tossed the contents into a nearby shrub.
The guys laughed and fired jabs at the captain for not finding them better accommodations. Penn scoffed and brushed them off, though he didn’t appear to be so fresh and bright-eyed this morning either.
“Anything to report from last night? Jack, did the bar hold any interest for you?”
Why did Ruby’s curvy figure loom into his mind?
He shook his head. “I only learned that the woman’s nervous and she dislikes that bald dude who works there. Shadow and I didn’t even see the girls. They didn’t come into plain sight.”
“They might have been warned off it after we were in for lunch, or their trade keeps them tied up after dark.” Penn caught Gasper’s eye. He’d thought the same thing.
Broshears cast a glance at the building. “Where the hell is Shadow? He get washed down the shower drain?”
“He’s battling blindness at the moment. Here he comes.” Gasper lifted his chin toward the man.
As soon as Shadow reached the guys, they took turns ribbing him over his red eyes until he threatened to give them swirlies in the fetid truck-stop toilets.
“I’m starved, and there’s only one place to grab a meal,” Gasper said. “Unless any of you want to chance the breakfast burrito in there.”
Penn compressed his lips. “We’ll hit the restaurant and then figure out a plan on a full stomach.”
The short walk to Ruby’s Place earned them curious looks from anybody who actually lived in White Fog.
“Is it just me, or do y’all find it curious that it’s good weather, yet there aren’t actually any tourists in this town?” Lipton’s question had them all searching the empty streets. Along the dock, a small fishing vessel bobbed on the waves, but only the captain could be seen on deck.
Gasper swung his stare to the biggest building in White Fog, two stories high and a simple rectangle in design. The sign for Ruby’s Place was the most interesting thing about it, with flourished red lettering that was slightly chipped by the harsh Alaskan wind and sea air.
When they got close enough to see the front, he narrowed his eyes. “The menu’s taped on the opposite side today.”
Penn narrowed his eyes. “You’re right.”
“Think it means anything?” Gasper pressed.
“We’re about to find out.” Penn entered first.
Gasper swept a glance over the space. His stare landed on Ruby, standing near the kitchen door, fists knotted at her sides, either because of the sight of them or a reason yet to be seen.
When she met his gaze he felt a tug, like the end of a rope being pulled. He took a step forward, and her lips parted as if she needed to draw in more air.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he got her alone, she might talk. Last night at the bar was too soon, and Shadow had been with him. But he had to try—as soon as possible. They didn’t have any time for fooling around when it came to the mafia. With every hour that passed, they dug their hooks deeper into US soil.
They all took seats at the table from the day before. He made sure to position himself on the end. Ruby would have to pass by him several times while taking orders and delivering food.
When she strode to the table, he took note of the stiff manner in which she carried herself. Her shoulders might be pulled back, but he’d bet a year’s pay that every muscle in her spine was knotted. Her neck too.
She wore all black again, and he couldn’t help but drink in the starkness of her clothes against her pale skin and red hair. The grave color also accentuated the hollows under each of her flinty gray-blue eyes.
He tracked her every stride as she crossed the room to the table. When she reached into her apron pocket to withdraw the notepad, he saw a small tremor in her hand.
Straightening in his seat, prepared to bash a bald head off the nearest wall, he kept his eyes on Ruby. Either she’d believe him too mannerless to stop staring or she’d see what he was trying to show her—that he was here. He saw her.
“Ruby.”
Her head shot up when he spoke her name. Their gazes locked.
“What’s today’s special?”
Flinty eyes burned into him.
“Chili.”
Her expression gave nothing away. So why did he have the feeling she was trying to tell him something?
She had to do something and fast. She couldn’t survive the tension of another day where these guys hung around her restaurant and bar. She had hoped during the night they’d return to wherever they came from.
Dealing with her bouncers on a normal day was difficult enough, but they had been unbearable since these men walked into her bar and spent far too much time lingering over food and drinks. Then last night, those two had come in for beers, which they’d nursed so long it became evident they wanted something else. But since neither were asking to entertain one of the girls upstairs, and they didn’t indicate they wanted the drugs from the barrels in the back room, Big Mike and Max were edgier than ever.
And they took it out on Ruby. They’d taken turns showing her the live cam of her beaten father.
She also felt stupidly worried about their safety. Even tough guys fell to the hands of the mafia.
Dammit, didn’t these men have anywhere better to go than White Fog?
Luck was never on her side. Not since that fateful day when her grandmother’s will was read and Ruby’s Place became hers. Her name wasn’t even Ruby—well, her middle name was. And Elliana Ruby Rynizski didn’t have the same ring as Ruby Ryan in a business like hers.
She fetched drinks for the group of guys and placed them on the table. They all watched her too closely. So did Big Mike and Max. Both men stood with their backs to the walls as they analyzed her every move.
When Max crooked his finger at her to follow him to the kitchen, her feet felt weighted to the floor, but she dragged them one at a time across the room to follow the man.
She faced him, shoulders squared.
“Get rid of them,” he ordered.
“How do you propose I do that? Tell them we’re out o
f food? Start a fire in the kitchen?”
“I don’t care how you do it—just move them away from here. I know they’re the reason you didn’t put the menu on the left side this morning.”
It was true—she had expected the men to return, and she couldn’t very well have men coming in to buy girls in plain view of the strangers, could she?
“We’ll find another way to make the deals until they leave White Fog. Get word out that we’ll put menus up in the back.”
Max gave a shake of his head. “No good. The terms have always been this way, ever since the day your father tried to swindle the Bratva.”
She inflated her chest but didn’t release the hot sigh. It burned her lungs and hung in the center of her chest like a scorching sun.
Max leveled his stare on her. “Get. Rid. Of. Them.”
“Fine! I’ll think of something. Just don’t do anything to my father.”
“We’ll see about that once you comply.”
She whirled to face the girls working in the kitchen. Girls she cared about…tried to help by improving their skills the best they could. She taught them to cook if they didn’t know how. She attempted to get a few words of English into them.
She even gave them better clothes by fiddling with the numbers in the books—at risk to her personal safety. If the Bratva ever found out… She didn’t want to think what they’d do to her.
If she failed to comply, she wouldn’t be able to protect the girls.
Anushka ladled chili into a bowl and set it beneath a heat lamp to stay warm while the rest of the dishes were prepared.
“You didn’t put enough in the bowl.” Ruby hurried forward and doled out more until the chili inched toward the brim.
Big Mike stuck his head into the kitchen. “Ruby, you have more customers.”
She looked to Inessa. “Go take care of the new customers. Anushka’s nearly finished with the food, and I’ll take it out to them.”
A plan formed in her mind. Her grandmother always told her that desperation made people think on their feet, and she found that was true today. She needed to shoo these men out of her restaurant—and hopefully run them out of White Fog. Maybe she could manage to achieve that goal today.
Inessa walked out to wait on the regular lunch customers, while Ruby paced between stove and door, peeking out at the big guys seated in her restaurant. They were testing her skills. It wasn’t easy hiding all these women, convincing them not to be seen or come downstairs until after closing time. Making sure any gentlemen calling on them came in through the rear and were rushed up to their rooms.
Handling the bouncers developed with other skills—like keeping them happy while shutting down their advances for her to come to their beds. Once, they’d even asked her to join both of them at the same time. While some women might jump at the chance to wedge themselves between two muscled Russian men, she shuddered at the idea.
But how long would it be before they took what they wanted from her? They were already stripping her soul each day by showing her that livestream of her father having his fingernails ripped out.
With the strangers sitting in the bar last night, the man who’d come for the shipment had left emptyhanded too. She couldn’t afford for the barrels to pile up in her back room. It was bad enough having such a big responsibility—half a million dollars’ worth of heroin in each barrel added up if they weren’t regularly moved.
She shot a peek at the office, where a photo of her late and beloved grandmother hung on the wall behind her desk. That particular Ruby never wanted this for her when she left her the business.
It would be easy to toss a dishtowel on the flames of the range burner, walk out of the kitchen, and wait for it all to go up in flames. Lately, that was the only clear way out she could see.
She still had a card to flip, though. Anushka placed the last plate on the tray, and Ruby hefted it. Bustling out, she forced Max to step aside.
Reaching the table, she caught the mundane chatter of men in these parts—fishing, fishing, fishing. Did men care about anything but their stomachs, dicks or casting a line?
Her insides trembled as she set the first plate down. The man thanked her. She offered him her customer service smile and moved around the table. When she reached the final man, the one who stared at her too much—and raised a lot of alarms in her too—her heart pattered double time.
Why did she feel the tension running off him? What did she care if her bouncers tossed him out? Not at all.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Max twitch his hand toward his side. Going for his phone to remind her what was at stake or his weapon? Either for her own sake or the diners’ safety, she couldn’t take a chance on it being either.
She grabbed the bowl and let the chili slosh over the side, dumping half of it in the man’s lap.
He jolted to his feet as the hot liquid landed on his crotch. He jerked a hand, and Ruby stumbled back to avoid a blow.
But he centered her in his gaze, and in that heartbeat, she knew he understood more than she could ever hope for.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry.” She grabbed for the napkins off the table and started dabbing at the front of his jeans.
He let out a groan and placed a hand over hers, stilling it. “I got it.”
“The red sauce is going to stain your clothes. Please, let me pay for your laundry. In fact, I’ll take you to the laundromat myself. Follow me!” Before he could protest, she rushed to the door and pushed outside.
She only had to wait a second before he joined her. A question lurked in his dark blue eyes, eyes that appeared like a whole galaxy swirled in them, but she only shot him a glance before turning and hurrying down the sidewalk to the laundromat.
Could her heart pound any harder? She glanced at her chest, certain she’d see the organ pulsating underneath her top. But her outward appearance gave nothing away. She hoped her erratic behavior would be passed off as good customer service to Big Mike and Max. She already had her reason planned out—her dear grandmother would have done the same thing if she’d made such a mistake.
The man walked a step behind her, and she got an itchy feeling that he watched every step she took. Thankfully, the laundromat wasn’t far, and nobody was in there at this time of day.
Small blessings.
Once they entered, she went straight to a washing machine in the corner. “Put your jeans in here.”
He stopped midway through the room. “Strip down right here?”
“Do you want me to pay for your pants to be cleaned or not?”
His stare on hers left her with a strange floating feeling she couldn’t identify—and didn’t want to, either. She pointed to the open washer.
Slowly, the man came forward. He stopped in front of her.
“Ruby.”
The way he said her name made her feel he’d touched her insides, stroking them with a callused finger.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
He dropped his hands to the front of his jeans. She didn’t mean to drop her gaze when he unbuttoned them and unzipped the fly, but once her stare locked on the bulge in his boxers evident there, she forgot how to move her eyes.
She compressed her lips, breathing in the scent of laundry powder and clean clothes, warm from the dryer.
The man bent to remove his boots and step out of his jeans. His hard, muscled legs were endlessly long and sported dark springy hair all over. The US Navy tattoo on his chiseled thigh didn’t go unnoticed by her.
He stepped out of the jeans and pulled a few items from the pockets, including a phone and weirdly, a roll of quarters, as if he’d come to her restaurant knowing he’d need to pay for the washing machine.
He dropped the soiled jeans into the washer. His stare never left her face. “What’s really going on?”
She didn’t speak.
“This is a strange town. That B&B owner mentioned some things—”
“There’s some on your shirt. You’d better put it in too.” She refu
sed to look at him. Damn the man for using leverage like that to get her to talk.
But what if he could help her? Her father?
When he didn’t immediately move, she reached for the hem. Again, he stopped her, trapping her fingers in his big, warm hand. She sucked in sharply and pulled free.
He continued to stare at her while he shed his shirt and dropped it into the machine too. “We’re mixing lights and darks.”
She gaped at him. “You care about that?”
“I care loads about doing laundry.”
She blinked.
“Get it? Loads?”
Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, she threw him a desperate look. She didn’t trust that the Bratva didn’t have every corner of this town bugged.
She dug in her apron for some money, but the man said, “I got this.” He thumbed a few quarters from the roll and slid them into the machine.
As soon as the noise of water covered their talk, she battled for focus, but the military tattoos branding his tanned skin wasn’t helping matters. Her gut told her as much, so why was she surprised? Unless those men at her restaurant were bodybuilders or Olympians here for a spot of fishing, they had to be military.
“Ruby.”
When she didn’t meet his gaze, his rough fingertip slid carefully beneath her chin, and he used it to lift her head. Her insides shouted that this man needed to go before he wrecked the house of cards precariously surrounding her.
“What the hell’s going on, Ruby?”
The heat in his tone—and the sweetness—sent a pang straight to her bruised, neglected soul. “You guys have to leave White Fog.”
“Tell me why.”
She didn’t answer.
He took a step closer, bringing that hot, muscled, tanned and tattooed expanse of chest near her nose. “Ruby, who’s hurting you?”
She gulped. “Nobody’s hurting me. But you need to go. This town has nothing for you.”
“Now that I’m getting to know you better, I’d say this town has exactly what we’re looking for.”
“Which is?” She chanced a peek at his face, but his stare sent a blast of heat straight to her core. With a shock, she realized she was putting her trust in this man because she was attracted to him.
