CHAPTER EIGHT

"Oh, Fox, no," Ruby said the next Monday after work, when Fox stopped her outside the dealership and told her he had something for her. "Not again." Fox grinned and dug into the pockets of his tight black Nudie jeans. Two tickets to the Boys & Girls Club charity gala. She gaped at them. "But Fox, why? You could take anybody."

"You know me. I like to make an entrance," he said, with only a slight turn-up of his lip. "And the best way to do that is on the arm of the most beautiful woman I know.”

She looked down at her scuffed velvet ballet flats, suddenly feeling plain. "I don't have anything to wear."

Fox dug into his other pocket and pulled out an envelope--a Saks gift card. For five thousand dollars. She held it like a leaf in her hand that might blow away. "When you get there, ask for Mona, my personal shopper. She'll take care of you." He pressed the card further into her hand, closing her limp fingers around it. Ruby already felt like a rag doll, a toy to dress up. This was too much. "I have some business to attend to tonight, and I won't be able to drive you home. So I also wanted to give you this," said Fox. He took a small key off the ring from his skinny jeans pocket, opened a locked cabinet in his desk, and took out a nine-millimeter Beretta. He set it on the desk in front of him.

She took a step away, the mere sight of the cold black surface of the gun making her feel physically ill. She’d told Fox about the graffiti and the tire tracks in front of her apartment as soon as she’d seen him. Of course, she’d weighed keeping it to herself, but she knew that in the end, Fox was her best defense against the Steel Jockeys. He had all the resources, all the knowledge. She’d be selfish and foolish not to let him help her.

Fox came closer, placing the gun in her hand and gently raising her arms so that she was aiming it toward the trunk of a massive oak tree growing in the lot next door. "Listen to me, Ruby. There's something happening. I don't know precisely what, but I'm going to try to find out. The same guys who killed your brother may try to find you. These are dangerous men, Ruby. I can't be there to protect you all the time, although god knows I wish I could. Take it," he said. "For Kyle's sake, if not for mine."

"You don't understand." She'd been terrified of guns her whole life. That was how her father had died--shot and bled out before the vandals set fire to his store, and later, Kyle had met his fate the same way. There was no other use for a gun than killing another human being with a single flick of the finger.

He curled his hand around the handle.

"I’ll help you. Spread your legs a bit more. You need balance. Keep your eyes on the side of the trunk." Trembling, she raised her arms and stared over the barrel. She felt the gun cock, and her stomach twisted. This might have been the last sound Kyle heard before his life began oozing away on the sidewalk.

"I can't," she dropped the weapon, where it rolled innocently on the grass beneath their feet. She collapsed into his arms, happy to have any respite from the terrifying prospect she had been presented with. "I can't, Fox."

"You can," he said. He kissed her forehead. "Now let's try this again."