Maxwell

 

She was gone and I wasn’t sure how to get her back. Worse still, she didn’t have her cell phone to call. Which irked me to no end. The cell phone had started the whole damn thing and I wasn’t so stupid as to miss the irony of her not having it now and me needing it.

 

“Shit.”

 

I was standing on the sidewalk staring at the busy street, debating my options. I’d only just barely missed her—that damn cab might as well have been waiting for her, it picked her up so fast—and knew there was a chance I might catch up to the cab if I jumped into my car right now and drove like a maniac. Unfortunately, it was a really slim chance, given the traffic, how little I knew of the area, and the fact that I didn’t know where she was going. Not to mention how many damn cabs there seemed to be in this place.

 

Besides, even if I did catch her, what would I do?

 

“Hey, get out of the car now, against your will, so I can explain how not controlling and abusive I am?” No, it didn’t sound even the least bit convincing. Not even to my own ears. And it didn’t matter that I’d gotten rid of her phone for the best of reasons. Fact of the matter was I still was guilty of what she was accusing me of, which was going to make it a lot harder to convince her I was one of the good guys.

 

Assuming I was.

 

I frowned, cursing once again as I turned back towards the motel. I needed to think things through and come up with a plan. Catching her didn’t mean shit if I couldn’t convince her I wasn’t the kind of asshole she thought I was.

 

And I really hoped I wasn’t.

 

I crossed the parking lot, ignoring the older couple who was loading or unloading suitcases from the trunk of their little car. They were arguing about not looking at me or butting into other people’s business, which told me they had definitely caught the whole “my wife just got into a taxi and drove as far away from me as she could get” scene. It wasn’t very comforting, but I ignored them with willpower and headed up the stairs.

 

When I got to the room, I grabbed a slice of cold pizza, even though I wasn’t in the slightest bit hungry. I bit into it and chewed, not tasting a thing, as I considered my options.

 

The first one was my least favorite and I dismissed it even as I considered it. I knew myself well enough to know I’d never go through with it. Letting her go. Things had shifted for me over the course of the last week and I didn’t know if I liked the change or not, but I knew I couldn’t undo it simply by wishing things could go back. It meant I felt a burning desire to keep Nicole near to me. It meant some part of me liked being married, even if it was just some shotgun Vegas wedding and the woman only thought it was for the sake of inheriting whatever I had on me. It meant I was seriously considering settling down and I wanted to do it with her.

 

Once upon a time not so long ago, I would have just shrugged my shoulders, washed my hands of the whole thing, and walked off to find some other chick to fuck. It wasn’t that complicated, which was why I liked it. But Nicole had me wound so tight that I couldn’t just let her go anymore.

 

Moreover, she was still in danger. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. I had to get her back, because she was in real danger without me.

 

I finished my pizza, not necessarily feeling better, but thinking a little clearer thanks to the extra fuel. I stood and jerked my shirt up over my head, letting it fall to the floor, then shirked my jeans, too. Leaving a pile of clothing behind me, I went to the bathroom and started the water. It was still a little humid and there was a used towel slung over the top of the door, telling me Nicole had already showered.

 

My body shivered pleasurably as I thought of her standing beneath the spray, naked and glistening.

 

Forcing the thoughts out of my mind, I stepped under the water and washed the day’s grime away.

 

So I knew just walking away from Nicole wasn’t an option. I poured a small dime sized drop of shampoo into my palm, then worked it through my hair as I thought. I couldn’t ignore what Ruins had told me about Nicole always being in danger so long as she was with me, but my own mind continued to press against the idea. It argued that she already was in danger, which had happened by accident, and now I was protecting her. And she needed that protection.

 

It was a rationalization, but it also kind of sounded right, so I wasn’t sure what to do with that. I’d already decided I couldn’t leave her, so I pushed the uncertainty away and moved forward to my next option.

 

Which was trying to catch her.

 

There were a few fundamental problems with this plan of attack. The main one being I wasn’t sure where she was going. Home, to her apartment and job, I had to assume, but she had to know she was still in danger. So maybe there was somewhere else she would go when things got bad. Family? Friends? She had parents somewhere, though I supposed they could have been dead. Maybe an old college friend—had she even gone to college?

 

Frowning, I realized there was a lot I didn’t know about Nicole.

 

I didn’t bother with conditioner in my hair, though it was dry outside and the water was hard. I just didn’t like fussing with it and wasn’t going to let it just sit there on my scalp while it did its thing with my just standing there like an idiot. No thank you. I had things to do.

 

Brushing my teeth, I vowed I’d learn more about Nicole and her family and her past. I wanted to know everything and would make a point to discover things about her, even if only in short bursts and broken pieces.

 

I spit into the tub, rinsing it down the drain.

 

I didn’t know where she might go, that much was true. Maybe back home, maybe not. But I did know she didn’t have a car and was relying on a taxi. Which meant she’d have to get out of town somehow. A taxi would be too expensive and I was pretty sure most of them wouldn’t cross state lines. That left either catching a bus or a plane. Although a bus would be cheaper, I had a feeling she’d take a plane. More expensive, but she’d get to wherever she was going a hell of a lot faster. And I got the impression she wanted to put some serious distance between me and her.

 

Which was a problem I was going to have to address whenever I did manage to catch up with her. Earning her trust back wasn’t going to be easy, that much I could guess. But maybe if I was upfront with her and could get her to a place where she would just listen to what I had to say, there was a chance that we could go back to…well, whatever we were.

 

Husband and wife? I thought wryly.

 

I turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel and drying off quickly. My hair was wet and clung to my skin, but I kept it out of my eyes at least. I grabbed fresh clothes, dressing quickly, and shoved the others back into my bag. Doing a quick sweep of the room, I was about to leave when something occurred to me.

 

If Nicole was headed to the airport, the closest and biggest one would be LAX. Which was good, because with traffic the way it had been, it would take her a while to get there. But it was good for another reason, too: it could tell me how long I had before she’d be gone.

 

Using the landline in the room, I dialed the number for LAX, kindly listed next to a bunch of other courtesy numbers, including the police, the pizza place, and the front desk, which was just zero. I got an automatic voice answering machine, so I played with the keypad for about twenty minutes before getting the information I needed, only to discover that the next flight, thanks to overbooking and delays, leaving for Vegas wasn’t until midnight that night.

 

It didn’t tell me if she were headed back to Nevada or not, but if she were, I’d have some time. And if she wasn’t…well, I’d deal with that later.

 

Reaching for my bag, I was startled when I heard it ring suddenly. I frowned until I remembered I’d left my phone in my pants pocket. The phone kept ringing and I had to drag everything out frantically to get it in time. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking, it obviously wouldn’t be Nicole since she didn’t have a phone and probably didn’t even remember my number. When I finally found it, I froze as I stared at the screen. I recognized the caller instantly.

 

I answered the call and before I could even say hello, his voice came through, low and smug. Not the way I ever wanted to hear Martin’s voice. “Give it up, rat,” he told me, as much of an order as I’d ever been given. “Give it up, or your new sweetie pie wife eats a bullet. Don’t try me.”

 

Gritting my teeth, I tried to stay calm. I tried to keep the room and my entire world from spinning like a top on a glass floor. “Where is she? What have you done with—” But I didn’t get to finish. The line went dead and I tried not to think about how everything I had considered as far as getting Nicole back went hadn’t been anywhere near close enough to the truth.

 

I let my hand carrying the cell phone fall to my side. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I was shaking, but I was. Badly. And a trickle of cold sweat slipped down the middle of my back along my spine. I felt sick, nauseous, and weak, and so full of dread that the pizza was trying to come back up.

 

Was this fear? Real, true fear? Something I hadn’t encountered since I was a little kid and the fact that I was going to get thrown to the wolves at every new foster home I got dropped into was slowly but surely sinking in. As an adult, hell, as a teenager, I hadn’t really been afraid of things. What was the point? The worst had already happened to me and I’d survived it just fine.

 

Or, at least, that’s what I’d thought.

 

But now there was something worse than the beatings I’d received as a child or the instability of wayward half homes. Something worse than risking my life for stupid shit that didn’t matter.

 

It was losing Nicole, and I had just done that.

 

I took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I told myself she was okay. Maybe not indefinitely, but, for now, she was fine. They needed her alive, because that was the only real leverage they had over me. If she died, they knew I’d never stop.

 

That thought helped ease my sudden and overwhelming panic a little. I didn’t feel great about the situation, but knowing she was alive did a lot to help me think the rest through.

 

Going after Nicole the first time had been about repaying me for my betrayal of Spin, something I’d been deemed guilty of without being proven. But this was different. This was about scaring me off something. The fact that Martin was desperate enough to kidnap Nicole—something he’d have to die for—meant I was close to something. And knowing Martin, that something was information. The wrong kind for him and the right kind for me.

 

I frowned. I wasn’t any happier about Nicole being kidnapped and I definitely didn’t feel good about Martin having followed us here, but he must have. How else would he have known where to pick up Nicole? We could have gone anywhere. We could have jerked up towards Oregon and Washington. Or we could have gone south, heading to the border and Mexico. The fact that he knew we were here suggested one of two things, I realized slowly.

 

Option one: they followed us the entire way without me knowing. It seemed the most obvious one at first, but as I thought about it, I couldn’t help but wonder. Something about it didn’t sit right with me. I’d taken them through a wild ride to end up here and I hadn’t noticed they were behind me at any point in time. Not impossible, but difficult. Assuming they managed it, why not get close enough to jump us before we finally crashed off at this motel?

 

Why wait until Nicole was alone to pick her up in the first place?

 

Unless I considered option two: they knew we were coming here.

 

As soon as I thought it, I knew it was right. They picked up Nicole to threaten me off something. Something that was specific to this area—something they knew was here all along. Or maybe it was someone.

 

“Ruins,” I breathed.

 

They knew he was here, just like I did. And they knew I was talking to him. Which meant whatever he’d told me about Cain had been something real. Something they didn’t want me having.

 

I grabbed my bag, tucked my phone into my pocket, and headed out. The room would stay as it was until the maid came the next day to clean it up. I’d skip checking out, just in case someone was dumb enough to think I’d stay there. And just in case I was wrong and they’d followed us here.

 

Throwing my bag into the car, I jumped in and tore out of the parking lot. The traffic was going to drive me crazy and I was already high strung thanks to that call, knowing Nicole was being held captive, probably scared out of her goddamned mind, as they did god knew what to her.

 

But at least I knew where I was going.

 

It took me what seemed like ages to get there, but when I pulled down the same dead end, rundown street and came to a stop outside the only house that almost but not quite looked like it belonged, I felt my chest tighten. Ruins knew something. Something Martin didn’t want him to share. Martin had Nicole, trying to convince me to stay away from Ruins, but he was an idiot and his plan backfired.

 

I wasn’t stupid enough to think Martin would let Nicole walk after all of this. Or me, for that matter. Going after her wasn’t going to do me any good. Instead, I needed information and leverage. Two things I hoped Ruins would be able to help me with.

 

I marched up the walkway and started to bang on the front door, except I only got one bang in, because as soon as I touched it, the door swung inwards a little bit. It was completely unlocked and open. Not a good sign. Somehow, Ruins didn’t strike me as the trusting type who just left his door open for people to walk in uninvited.

 

Frowning, I stepped over the threshold, glancing back at the door. I noticed the chain had been broken on it, suggesting the door had been forced open. Another not so good sign.

 

I moved farther into the room, going as quietly and as slowly as possible, my eyes searching the hallway. I didn’t want to get caught off guard. Cursing myself for knocking so loudly at first, I tensed up as I came to the corner that led to the living room. With a deep, steadying breath, I braced myself before moving swiftly around the corner into the living room.

 

I froze as soon as I came around.

 

“Shit.”

 

Ruins was there, lying on the floor, his blood tainting it a dirty, muddy red color. I nearly turned away then and there to hurry quickly from the house, when I heard him inhale. It was a wet, rattling breath, but it was there. He coughed heavily as he tried to push the air back out from his lungs, blood spitting up and dying his lips a strangely bright red at odds with the deep dark color pooling out around him.

 

I considered my options. Ruins was going to die. Calling paramedics wouldn’t change that; I could tell by the hole in his chest and the spattering of additional spray. He’d been shot, probably with a shotgun from fairly close range. He was torn up and he’d been bleeding long enough that nothing I did now would save him.

 

The smart thing would be to go now before the people who did this came back to finish me off, or, worse, the police showed up and decided I was the guilty party.

 

But I remembered why I was here. Ruins had something Martin didn’t want me knowing and I had to get it out of him, even if it was taken from his dying breath.

 

Cursing again, I dashed into the room, slipping slightly as I stepped into the blood. Kneeling next to him—the blood soaked through my jeans, cooling rapidly—I tried to get him to focus on me.

 

“Who did this?” I asked. I cradled his head in my lap, probably not much of a comfort, but there wasn’t much else I could do. “Ruins, I need you to tell me. Who did this to you?”

 

He coughed and sputtered again, spraying my face with a light freckling of blood that unnerved me, but couldn’t seem to answer me.

 

“Damnit, I need to know!”

 

He was trying, I realized as he reached up with a big, burly hand and grabbed my shirt by the collar. He jerked me down so my cheek was turned and his lips were at my ear. He coughed again, wheezing as he sucked in a rattling breath, but finally he said, “Cain.” Then he died.