Neco

I stared down at the man lying at my feet, face fucked up almost beyond recognition, arm at an odd angle, piss soaking his jeans, and somehow managed to keep the ice coating my insides intact. I had fought a lot in my life, had won most of the time, had also had my ass handed to me a time or two, but this, this was the kind of shit that haunted my dreams. This poor, dumb fuck had been stupid enough to get hooked up with the wrong people, had thought he could outsmart them, avoid them, fuck knows, but he’d fucked with the wrong man. Tomas never let anyone get away with anything without payment.

I doubted this guy was a sterling citizen, but this? Some guy showing up at his house in the middle of the night and beating the shit out of him? I hoped he’d committed some despicable crime in his life, had done something bad enough to deserve this. I had to believe that, if I didn’t I’d lose my fucking mind.

How many bloody faces had looked up at me in my life, that same look in their eyes? More than I ever wanted to think about, but they were all there. They never left me.

A soft rustling sound had my head snapping up. Standing at the top of the stairs that led to the bedrooms was his woman. I’d dragged him out of his bed, lying beside her a short time ago, threatened her too while I was at it to make sure she didn’t call the cops. The look on her face now made me feel like the lowest piece of shit to ever walk the face of the earth.

“Message received?” I said to her.

She nodded, tears streaking down her face. The sound of footsteps, fast and light echoed off the wooden floorboards.

“No, Eric!” the woman called.

A kid came flying down the stairs, pulling up short when he saw his old man lying on the floor, the rattle of his father’s labored breaths filling the room. He must have only been about five or six. The sick feeling in my stomach intensified and I was close to throwing up.

The kid was scared as hell, staring at me like I was the boogieman come to life. The small boy shook so hard his teeth started to chatter. His mother raced down after him, grabbing him and pulling him into her, with genuine fear that I might hurt her kid.

My own body started to shake. I needed to get the fuck out of here. “Call an ambulance,” I said to her, then glanced down at the boy and back to her. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not to involve the police?”

She shook her head, getting my message loud and clear. I’d never hated myself more in my life than at that moment.

I walked out a second later, climbed into my SUV, and hauled ass out of there. I hit Tomas’s number and waited.

“Yeah?”

“It’s done,” I said, voice so remote and detached I barely recognized it.

“He going to be up and about any time soon?”

“You really need to ask?” The nausea in my gut intensified.

He chuckled. “You always did take pride in your work.”

I ignored him. “Give me what I want.”

“The recruiter you want goes by Mom. She’s a fucking bitch. Would sell her own kids if she got the chance.”

I wasn’t expecting a woman to be heading the operation, but it didn’t really make much difference. She’d come after Ruby, which meant shit was going to get real ugly for her real fast.

“Anything else?” I muttered.

“I hear there’s a meeting set up, not sure what it’s about, and I don’t know the players yet, but she’ll be there. As soon as I have more, I’ll let you know.”

I disconnected.

* * *

Ruby

The reception was unmanned when I walked in. I was on a mission. Zeke said I could spar with him any morning I wanted to. So here I was. I was also pretty angry that Neco hadn’t bothered to call or even fucking text last night. The least he could do was give me a heads up that he wouldn’t be coming home—that he was okay. He worried about me to the point he damn near suffocated me. Did he think I didn’t worry about him? That I could have no communication from him for eighteen fucking hours, and be all, “oh well, whatever”?

I punched in the code for the lower level where the gym was located, as well as Neco’s office and surveillance equipment, and jogged down the stairs.

I was walking past his office when the sound of murmured voices had me pulling to a stop. He was here? Neco was at the goddamn office and still hadn’t thought to call me? I dropped my gym bag at the door and shoved it open, storming in.

Hunter was standing in the middle of the room, Van, too. Both of them spun to look at me as I strode in.

Van reacted first, striding toward me. “You can’t be in here, Ruby.” He tried to usher me out.

Oh, hell no . . .

I spun away from Van, and that’s when I spotted Neco.

He was on the floor, sitting against the wall, knees up, arms draped over them, head hanging down. There was dried blood on his hands and forearms, his shirt.

Oh God.

Shoving past Van, yanking my arms free when Hunter tried to grab me as well, I dropped to my knees beside Neco.

He didn’t move.

I knew he wasn’t hurt, or the guys wouldn’t be standing around like this. This was something else entirely.

“Neco,” I whispered. “Baby?”

He didn’t acknowledge me, remained eerily still. I turned to Hunter and Van, still standing there, thankfully no longer trying to extract me from the room. “What the hell happened to him?”

Neither one answered.

We stared each other down for several seconds. I was done with this shit. Done. “I’m not a fucking idiot,” I growled. “You may think I don’t know what the hell goes on around here, but I have a pretty good idea. I grew up in the same neighborhood as you. I’m not deaf and I’m not fucking blind. There’s nothing you can tell me that can shock me at this point.”

Finally, Van crossed his arms and held my stare. “He did a job for Tomas . . . in exchange for information.”

I almost fell back on my ass when he gave that to me. The shock burned off just as fast as it came, though, because my main focus was Neco.

He was shaking slightly, lost in his own head. I didn’t need Van to elaborate. I’d seen Neco doing his “job” for Tomas once before. Neco never knew I’d seen him, but I had, and I’d known how it affected him, even back then. He’d done it for his mom.

My man was tough, could be cold and goddamn scary when he needed to. He’d maim or kill for those he loved, to right a wrong, but the people he’d hurt for Tomas . . . he’d dished out punishment for no other reason than Tomas had instructed him to. Neco would have done anything for his mother back then, to make sure she never had to sell herself again, to protect her.

But he’d gotten out as soon as he could.

There was only one reason he’d go to Tomas for information. One reason he’d put himself through this again, now.

Me.

I curled in beside him, resting my head on his shoulder, lifting my gaze to Hunter and Van. “You can go. I’ve got this.”

They both left, but not before I saw an odd look pass across Van’s face as he stared down at us. It was a mix of bewilderment, maybe even surprise.

As soon as they shut the door behind them, I wrapped my arms around him, kissing the side of his neck then, sliding my hand across his jaw, I made him look at me. He looked straight at me, eyes colder, darker than I’d ever seen them. There was nothing of my Neco there right then.

I kissed his cheek and stood. “Come on.” I held out my hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He rose from the floor, still not saying anything. I went to his desk and grabbed the spare clothes he kept in the drawer for after he worked out. Taking his hand again, I led him into the workout room and across to the bathroom/locker rooms. Thankfully, no one was down here. But just to be safe, I decided to use the women’s and locked the door behind us. Neco wouldn’t want anyone else to see him like this. Not one of the guys here would judge him, they had their own issues, but I knew he wouldn’t want that.

I turned on the shower and walked back to him.

“I’m okay,” he finally said when I was standing in front of him.

Relief washed though me. But he was full of shit and we both knew it. He was far from okay. “Is it a crime for a woman to take care of her man after a hard day?”

“Ruby . . .”

I gripped his shirt and lifted it off, flinging it aside, swallowing at the hollow note to his deep voice.

“No arguments.” I tried my best to force some lightness into mine. I was worried about him, but I didn’t want him knowing that. I crouched down and undid his boots, getting him to step out, then tugged off his socks. Standing, I undid his jeans and pushed them down, taking his boxers with them. His body was revealed to me in all its glory. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest and abs, down to narrow hips and that V that made my mouth water. His cock was soft, lying between his heavy thighs. My eyes dropped to his feet. Even his feet were gorgeous. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. God, I loved him so much it hurt.

I’d do anything for him, and that included whatever it took to ease the pain I saw in him now.

Taking his hand, I led him to the shower. He climbed in and I quickly stripped off and climbed in after him. Grabbing the soap, I lathered up and started washing him. His hands and arms first, removing all physical traces of the nightmare haunting him, watching as pink soapy water swirled around the drain, disappearing. I carried on, washing the rest of him. He watched me the whole time, his intense gaze following my hands as they moved over his body.

His cock had begun to harden, but he made no move to touch me, keeping his hands at his sides.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said roughly, voice tortured, broken.

Dropping a soapy hand to his erection, I gripped him, started stroking him slowly. A shudder moved though his entire body. “I don’t know what you did tonight,” I whispered. He shuddered again and leaned back against the wall, strong legs braced apart. “I also know you did it for me.”

I stroked him a little faster and his breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You’ve been there for me nearly my whole life, Neco. You don’t deserve me?” I shook my head. “We were made for each other. I don’t know about fate or anything like that, but we needed each other and someone knew that. You’ve been my one constant. My protector. My best friend . . . My lover.” I stared into his eyes. “My Superman.”

He kept his eyes open and on me as pleasure, pain transformed his features, his hips jerking forward. Then he came in hot spurts that splashed against my stomach.

The tension left his big frame and he collapsed back against the tile. “I love you,” he rasped.

I curled into him, and his arms banded tight around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. “I love you, too,” I said against his chest.

Lightning didn’t rend the sky above us, and the ground didn’t move beneath my feet. They were just words, words that meant everything and nothing all at once. Because I’d always known it and so did he.

We were written in the stars.

We were inevitable.

I belonged to him and he belonged to me.

Nothing would ever change that.