Neco

I stood at the window and watched a cab pull up outside, watched Ruby walk out with her bags and climb in.

Then I watched her drive away.

I can’t be your prisoner.

Numbly, I turned away.

You love me, I know that, but this, the way you’re acting, it doesn’t come from love, it’s born from fear.

Maybe she was right about that, but she was also wrong. Because everything that concerned Ruby came from a place of love. I loved her more than anything else on this earth.

I’d had her. She’d been mine. Finally.

Now I’d lost her.

I lost her.

* * *

I stared at my computer screen. We’d done the recon, but I wanted to make sure everything was set for the meeting Edwards had set up tonight. I couldn’t focus for shit, though. I hadn’t been able to focus on a damn thing since Ruby left. An image of Ruby slammed through my skull, the way she’d looked at me while she’d ridden me two nights ago, the way she’d touched me, the tears I’d seen shimmering in her eyes before she’d come. No hesitation, free, confident, so much love for me—while I’d fucking clung to her. Too tight. I’d held her too tight.

She was right. I’d needed her when we were kids just as much, maybe more, than she needed me. And I was still doing it.

Jesus, I’d all but pushed her out the door.

The dark place inside me that I’d given up fighting roared to the surface, and I stood, swiping everything off my desk. I was breathing heavily, control a thing of the past.

“What the hell’s going on?” Van was standing by the door, eyes boring into me.

“Ruby left,” I said.

“What do you mean left?”

My eyes drifted shut, and I worked at cooling my shit down. “She left me.”

Van’s chin went back, eyes flaring in surprise briefly. “I thought you two were solid?”

“I fucked up, like you said I would.”

“Neco . . .”

I shook my head. “I’m not talking about this with you, not now. I need my head in the game.” I crossed my arms. “The meeting’s set up for tonight. Mom said she’d text with an address and time twenty minutes before we meet.” I held up Edwards’s phone.

Van nodded. “Good.”

“Any news on Zeke?” I’d been in to see him earlier, but he’d been fresh out of surgery and they wouldn’t let me see him.

I hadn’t even told her about Edwards, or Zeke for that matter. I hadn’t had a chance.

“He’ll be out of commission for a while, but he’s going to be okay, thank fuck.”

We’d gotten in, and thankfully out, of Edwards’s penthouse clean. The cops had been kept out of it. There was no need to call them in, that fucker was no longer a threat to Ruby. We were never there. Edwards had enemies, a lot of them. We were the last place the police would look.

Zeke and I also had rock solid alibis. We always did.

Van left a short time later, and I cleaned up the mess I’d made.

If only it was that easy to clean up the one I’d made with Ruby.

* * *

The meeting place was deserted—or looked that way.

Mom had text me twenty minutes ago with instructions. I was at another shitty building in another shitty part of the city, this time an old apartment building scheduled for demolition.

Hunter was on point, somewhere outside to the front of the building. Or would be there soon. Same with Van and Jude, flanking either side.

My boots crunched on broken glass as I moved farther into the old foyer and shone my torch into the shadows.

Something didn’t feel right.

I flicked the torch across the old staircase, the landing there. Nothing. Literally. Half the stairs were gone, which meant no one was up there.

Reaching back, I slid my gun from the waistband of my jeans and aimed it, along with the flashlight, around the room. Silence. Too damn quiet. Every one of my senses was on high alert as I moved forward. There was an old elevator to one side and a door marked “Maintenance” opposite. I moved toward the door as silently as I could. These fuckers could just be being overcautious, or they could have gotten suspicious and this could be a setup.

I was sure none of this woman’s crew had seen my face. I’d been quietly confident going into this, that there was no way they could think it was anyone but Edwards while I’d been communicating with them.

Now my gut was telling me something different.

I shoved the door open, gun out in front of me, shining my flashlight into the corners. There was a scrape to my right and a light flared to life, filling the small space. I blinked, eyes adjusting, finally taking in the scene in front of me . . . and hoped like fuck I was seeing things.

“Hello, Neco.” The familiar voice slid through me, shock and surprise throwing me off balance for a split second.

That was all it took.

Something hit me from behind, and I dropped like a stone.

Everything went dark.

* * *

Ruby

I stood in the middle of Harry’s living room and stared out at the city through the large bi-folding doors. They led out to a balcony, to an amazing view. It was a beautiful place, with plenty of room. He’d kindly agreed to let me to stay here until I found somewhere else. I felt crappy asking him to put me up, but I needed some distance from Neco, and that wouldn’t happen if I stayed with one of the other King Agency guys.

I didn’t know what was going to happen. I knew I still loved him, would always love him, but I needed him to meet me halfway. I didn’t know if he’d be willing to do that, if he could. Neco was hardwired a certain way, had been molded by his upbringing, the things he saw, the helplessness he’d felt.

Sighing, I headed down the hall to my room. Harry was staying over at his girlfriend’s while he recovered, which meant it was me myself and I. I considered calling Lulu. A movie marathon sounded good about now—so did a glass or five of red wine. But I knew she’d want me to fill her in on what happened, why I’d moved out, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it.

God, it hurt.

So damn much.

I missed him—like a part of me had been torn away.

You did it to yourself.

That voice of doubt had been niggling at me since I told Neco I was leaving. My heart wanted to run back to him, agree to anything he wanted, anything to stop the constant ache in my chest, the feeling of wrongness at being separated from him—but my head knew that was the worst thing I could do. I didn’t want to end up resenting him, and that’s what would happen if I stayed.

I didn’t know what our future held, but I couldn’t imagine a life without Neco in it. I just hoped he felt the same way, that his feelings for me were incentive enough to fight for us.

Another sigh slipped past my lips and I grabbed my bag from the floor and sat in on the bed. I still hadn’t properly unpacked. I guess I’d secretly hoped Neco would show up and say he’d changed his mind, that he knew he had to trust me, that he’d sit down and we’d come to a compromise, but of course, that hadn’t happened.

He had texted me, though, to see if I was okay, then later to say goodnight, that he missed me. After that one, I’d burst into tears and cried myself to sleep.

I flicked the bag open and started sorting through it. I’d shoved everything in so fast; I had my laundry mixed in with my clean clothes. I made a pile on the floor then scooped up what I’d deemed dirty, and started toward the small utility room down the hall.

Something dropped on my foot.

I stopped and bent down to see what it was.

A small silver thumb drive lay on the ground.

I stared at it. Shit.

I’d planned to check it, but when I’d found Neco at the office, covered in someone else’s blood, I’d completely forgotten about it.

I dumped my laundry on the floor and rushed back to the living room, opening Harry’s laptop. It was already on, and I slid in the thumb drive, clicking “Open Files” when I was prompted.

It was full of photos, some videos. Considering what Neco found on Scott’s laptop, I wasn’t fired up to check them out, but what if there was something important to the case on here? He’d hidden it for a reason.

I opened the first file and jerked back.

Scott was sitting on a shabby couch in a shabby living room, waving at the camera and grinning. There was a poster of Marilyn Monroe on the wall and a set of ceramic dolphin candle sticks on a wooden bookshelf against the wall.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, trying to breathe through the erratic pounding of my heart.

The shabby couch and the Marilyn poster had come from a garage sale on Lincoln Street. The couch had weird stains on the arms, and the bookshelf with the dolphin candlesticks had never once held a book. I knew these things because that was my living room. Or should I say, Valery’s living room. I checked the file date. This was taken a year after I moved out.

I clicked though the pictures. There were more of Scott and some other guy. He was older. He looked a lot like Scott. Father? Older brother? My stepmother was in several of them as well. I blindly worked my way through them, then opened the next, a video.

It was of Valery and Scott.

They were having sex.

I shot up from my seat. What in the fuck was going on? Pulling my phone from my pocket, I hit Neco’s number. He was my first port of call, always, and right now, I needed him. His phone went straight to voice mail. Shit. I tried Van.

He answered instantly. “Ruby.”

“Van, I need to talk to Neco, it’s important.”

He was quiet for several seconds. “He’s not with me.” His voice sounded weird.

“Do you know where he is?”

A pause. “Ruby . . . shit.”

Oh God. “What’s going on, Van?”

He cursed. “It’s Neco. Something’s happened.”

Panic bubbled up inside me as he explained me what happened.

Oh God. Oh Shit.

“I’ll meet you at the agency.” I disconnected.

Grabbing the thumb drive, I shoved it in my bag, grabbed the keys to my car, and headed out the door. I needed to get to the agency.

Please be okay.

He had to be okay.